


Obsession At First Sight

by BumbleBooty, SluttyMcMuffin



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, Kissing, Murder makeout, Non-Consensual Kissing, Quentin is confused, and quentin is the prettiest, ill fill this fucking ship myself if I have to, michael is transfixed, michael just has a thing for pretty boys, odd couple, quentin is a sneaky sneak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2019-08-27 14:03:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 51,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16703839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumbleBooty/pseuds/BumbleBooty, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SluttyMcMuffin/pseuds/SluttyMcMuffin
Summary: Michael thought it was going to be a normal trial.





	1. The First Taste of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time you meet someone is always regarded as special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna call the clown Kenneth from now on to avoid confusion with Jeff the new survivor.

When Michael opened his eyes, he was in Haddonfield. Absolutely perfect if anyone bothered to asked him.

He immediately turned on his heel to disappear into the backyards, knowing the survivors wouldn't dare step into the street at the start of the trial. 

Naturally, he was surprised when he heard the distinct sound of shoes on blacktop less than three seconds later. 

He turned slowly, wondering who dared to be so bold in his home turf. 

Then he stared for several seconds, forgetting to even look for weaknesses as he stared at the figure illuminated by Sheriff Brackett's police car.

There was a young man standing nervously in the street, obviously still frightened and new to the Entity's games. He was looking around in a rather lethargic fashion, taking in the normal surroundings with a look of confusion that pulled Michael's interest like a moth to a flame. His features were defined, yet still blissfully soft. He was a teen or young adult, but blurring the line between the two. Just like his Boo was. Just like Judith had been when Michael had snuffed her soul. 

He had his Obsession this trial. Simply lovely if anyone bothered to ask him.

He made it all of two steps before the chancy survivor- Ace- hissed 'Quentin!' sharply. The one in the street turned to stare, tilting his head. Michael noticed how he stumbled ever so slightly before catching his stride, pulling his jacket around him to attempt to chase the chill away as he joined the older male across the street. 

He was quickly gripped by the hand and pulled along.

Michael hadn't been seen yet. 

The new one would die last. 

Turning on his heel, he set out to find the others. 

The saboteur was pulled off a gen, having not heard Michael approach from around a corner. The scrapper came to his rescue. 

He was healed and downed again very soon.

No one came to his rescue a second time.

Rare, but understandable with a new survivor bogging the trial down. 

The Brit had led him on a merry chase once he was spotted, but had eventually met the end of his first chase on the sharpened end of his knife. A cheeky Ace had freed him seconds later, and Michael had downed them both before he lost his mental sharpening. 

They were hung on hooks within clear view of each other, in the middle of the street. Michael stood between them, turning slowly every few seconds to keep watch. 

The new one was sneaky, freeing David before disappearing like the night wind. 

A generator popped across the street as Ace died- he wasn't able to be saved with David being chased around the police car. 

The scrapper died under Michael's watchful gaze. He could afford to waste time, and Michael reveled in the look of horror on David's face as the Cypress Mori keychain materialized on the handle of his knife. 

Then there was one. 

Michael strolled around Haddonfield, finding several half-finished gens, but never his target. 

This one was a good hider, very stealthy.

An abnormal number of used health kits strung throughout his prowling grounds, answering how the others had been healed on several different occasions. They had been eerily lucky, or the new one had a knack for finding medkits. Michael knew better than to assume the Entity was merciful.

So a healer that actually knew how to hide? Very interesting. 

The exciting _newness_ of the idea made Michael's heart pound as he heard the gen turning in his house. 

_In **his** **home**._

He hugged the railing as he quietly climbed the stairs.

The young man was definitely new. He hadn't run at the first sign of a heartbeat.

Michael stepped into the room- Judith's room- with the gen and looked around. No one was here. 

Michael didn't believe that. He stood perfectly still and listened. He could hear carefully measured breathing but knew the survivor was desperate to escape. 

He stepped back into the hall. Then he stood still. Just far enough away where his terror radius would disappear, but he could still hear. 

A soft scuffling. He had hidden under the bed.

The work on the gen began anew, and Michael knew it was on the edge away from the door. He was back in the room in less than three seconds, looming in the doorway as his eyes locked with Quentin's for the first time. 

He had beautiful blue eyes. Similar to his own, but entirely different. This shade of blue was something that could drown Michael if he wasn't careful. 

This being said, it wasn't just the other's eyes that were beautiful. Overall, he was quite an attractive young man- closer to Michael's own age.

Not that he would know. Not unless Boo had told him. 

The only thing that could affect anyone's perception on his looks was the fact he was obviously _exhausted_. He didn't even bother staying upright to attempt to escape as the redhead would, instead leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs out with a sigh. 

Michael tilted his head as he stared the other down, moving to stand before him. 

His calm resignation didn't completely overtake his fear, and Michael savored the look of bravery that warred against the tears that were being held back. The cypress mori keychain dangled ominously from Michael's blade, drawing Quentin's eyes to it. 

He tilted his head silently, looking back up to the darkness of the eyeholes of his mask.

The look of fear didn't come.

Quentin didn't understand. 

He would soon. 

His screams were wonderful when his blade kissed his skin. 

Michael chose to drag out his death, kneeling over him and stabbing repeatedly- abnormal for him, but this one deserved something different than the others. 

The first Mori was always something special, and it was the first time for both of them in a sense- the first time Quentin would taste death in this way, and the first time Michael would teach a survivor the alternative way to meet their end.

As blood bubbled out the corner of his lips, Michael watched the light begin to fade from his eyes. A strange urge bubbled in his stomach, and he couldn't seem to find a reason to dismiss it. 

Now unwilling to resist, he pulled his mask up just enough to free his lips. Pressing them to the survivor's- Quentin, if his memory served him- was a strange sensation, but the surprised noise the survivor made was strangely satisfying. 

Quentin's lips were _almost_ as soft as the gasp he drew. 

However, the grip on his arm was just as solid as the knife that drove into the soft stomach once more. Michael released Quentin's lips to enjoy his final breaths, and felt something tighten in his stomach. 

He had been blissfully wrong. This man was _nothing_ like his sisters. He didn't want Quentin's affection as he had wanted theirs.

It was a similar mystification, but it was certainly not something born in an innocent familial bond. Perhaps this is what Loomis had been asking about when he had questioned Michael about girls in his class all those years ago. 

Michael found himself hoping he had several trials with this survivor, slowly pressing his knife down towards their hips to gut Quentin fully. His lips met Quentin's once more, his hand adjusting to put his blade through Quentin's heart just before he bled out. 

One final press of lips is all Michael would take from him before death. He had been greedy enough so far, and knew better than to unreasonably prolong his mori. 

His lips rested softly over Quentin's with almost no pressure, inhaling through his nose as he tightened his grip on his knife.

Then

Then Quentin quietly moaned.

The noise was ever so soft, yet it ricocheted through Michael's head like the bullets from Loomis' gun had bounced through his chest.

He was frozen as Quentin's foot finally slipped, resting flat as his final sigh escaped past their joined lips. 

Michael's knife met the floor as he loomed over the new corpse, his heart pounding harder than it ever had before. 

The fog enclosed him before he could fully process what had just happened. 

* * *

The campfire glowed around the survivors as Quentin stepped forward on shaky legs. Ace smiled sadly, holding open his arm for the younger man to settle under. "So, David said dear ol' Mikey had a Mori. Sorry ya had to go through that blind kid. At least he's fast with it- 'prolly the most professional out of all of 'em if ya ask me." 

Quentin's head slowly turned to meet Ace's eyes, and the look had snickers going through the campfire. 

A blonde woman was the only one that didn't laugh. She just tilted her head as she watched Quentin pull his coat closer and shyly cover his mouth with his hand. 

The fire barely covered the flush across his cheeks.  


	2. A Second Glimpse of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quentin is cautious, but decides to play along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok  
> so  
> gonna be honest.  
> i dont even remember writing this. But a lot of people want more. 
> 
> ssooooooooo, lets just see where this goes? *hesitantly reaches for seat belt*

If anyone bothered to ask Quentin, he would tell them he was mildly scared to meet Michael Myers again.

Anyone that cared would have heard the implication to the word 'mildly' extremely clear, no matter how quiet his voice got.

With the familiar territory of Springwood stretching out around him, Quentin barely suppressed a shudder. 

 _Please_ don't let it be Freddy again. Not so soon after the last encounter.

Quentin took a deep breath before immediately ducking into the school. He would know quickly if it was Freddy- he always checks his little room first, like the sick fuck he was.

Thankful for the skills the trials he had now been through had taught him, he quickly got on the generator. 

The gen in the basement was about a third of the way through when a familiar tune echoed through the air. 

Not Freddy.

Michael. 

And he was watching someone.

With trembling hands clutching a wire between his fingers, Quentin looked behind him.

Nothing. Sorry to whoever was getting stalked. 

Quentin turned his attention back to the generator. 

50. 

60. 

75.

85- Shit.

His heart suddenly began to pound as running footsteps went straight towards the stairs. 

Quentin immediately walked to the closet, stepping inside and holding his breath. 

Meg's quiet 'shit!' echoed as she began to crouchwalk, heading past his locker and giving it an apologetic look. She knew he was in here. 

God don't let Myers know too. Not this soon.

Heavy footsteps followed just as she rounded the corner, and Quentin squeezed his eyes closed and pressed against the Hatchets at his back. 

He didn't open them until light hit his face.

Myers was before him, staring...Which was not unusual for him. 

Quentin watched as the killer's chest stopped its own breaths, hesitating a moment before resuming with a head tilt. 

To his eternal surprise, Michael's hand stroked his cheek gently before it wrapped around his throat, pulling him out of the locker and over his shoulder. 

Quentin did his best struggle as Michael strolled toward the basement, but still wound up with a hook through his shoulder. A quick glance around was enough to confirm that the others were half the map away. 

Michael knew this too, judging from how he looked directly at all three of them. Barbecue & Chili it was then.  

Quentin held his breath as the white mask slowly turned back towards him, watching for a moment as Quentin looked upwards. "Jake's coming Michael. J-... Just do what you're gonna do."

He watched Michael's shoulders tense. 

He watched that hand rise to push the mask up past Michael's lips.

God those lips were far too nice, even when he was pinned on a meathook. 

Far too quickly, the lips were gone and the mask was back down.

As Jake's silhouette hit the boiler room, Michael stepped back.

He pointed up, raising four fingers. Three of them went down with the help of his pointer finger on his other hand.

Michael pointed at Quentin, then lowered the last one.

"I'm last."

Michael nodded. 

Then he was gone. He could hear the boots tromp up the stairs, and Quentin exhaled hard. Jake was in a closet upstairs, which Michael pointedly walked past based on the sound of the footfalls. 

Seconds before the claws came to make him struggle, Quentin was freed. 

Daring as usual, Jake healed him in front of the dripping hook. 

That stupidity earned him the honour of being the first kill after saving Meg from her second hook. 

Quentin and Claudette finished three gens before Meg finally fell. 

He and Claudette were working behind the fence when Michael suddenly appeared, yanking poor Claudette off of it before she even had time to gasp. 

Quentin finished the gen just after she was hung. He quickly went around the fence, sneaking into the bush just before Michael appeared.

Quentin felt his heart pounding in his chest as Michael passed him by, searching for him. 

Using the knowledge of the Preschool to his advantage, Quentin almost made it to Claudette before Michael returned.

Claudette gave him a sad look as Michael looked around, taking a deep breath as the claws came down for her to struggle against.

Except she didn't. 

Quentin watched in horror as she died when she easily could have been saved. 

Michael acknowledged her death with a head tilt. 

Quentin slipped back into the school, hoping to hide out and find the hatch when Michael came down to check the lower levels.

Crouching in the corner behind the small desk- and pointedly ignoring the shoddy pach covering the hole he wished didn't exist- he waited with baited breath for Michael to come down the stairs. After he went to one of the cramped hallways, it would be easy to sneak back upstairs and check the street first. 

Quentin continued to plan his attack as heavy footfalls mirrored his pounting heart, overlooking him and heading behind the stairs. 

Channeling his inner Nea, Quentin moved. 

Then that _damn_ stair creaked.

Michael was back within a second, but Quentin was already running.

If he could get to the gate, he could juke him.

If he could just get to the gate!

Quentin yelped as he was slashed at the end of the hallway, pure fear driving him forward and outside the gates. Quentin immediately hugged the gate, dipping against the tree just as Michael cleared the metal as well. He held his breath as he hid in a small alcove, immediately dubling back as the killer looked over the street. 

Quentin thought he had gotten away, but he was caught at the last second. 

Swearing to himself- he  _knew_ the same trick would not work twice, not this match- he ran back into the school. Maybe he could loose him in the classrooms? 

His heart clenched as he past Nancy's paintings, circling a pallet and playing a bit of Mind Games with Michael- god what an awful show that would be- until the Illinois native got a pallet to the face as Quentin fled the school. 

His heart continued to pound as Michael gave chase, but Quentin managed to loose him in the house across the street. 

He ran that whole damn neighborhood. With Michael on his ass for over 80% of the run. 

Vaulting the window to the killer shack, Quentin  _almost_ felt disappointment at the hatch pouring its black smoke against the far wall. He was having the _tiniest_ hint of fun.

Quentin planted his feet on both sides of the opening, grinning like a demon while straddling his ticket to freedom.

Michael appeared in the window less than a second after his hair settled, watching him with a now-familliar head tilt. 

Quentin bit his lower lip to hold back his laughter. 

Unable to resist the temptation, he held up four fingers, using his pointer on his other to carefully lower his digits.

His pinkie. 

His ring finger.

His pointer. 

Michael's shoulders barely shook as Quentin burst into giggles, covering his mouth until Michael gave a lunge for the door. Quentin wated until that large body just crossed the  doorway before jumping into the hatch, grinning while the darkness enveloped him. 

The campfire was a bit of a mess when he stumbled out of the woods, with Claudette spotting him immediately and rushing to his side. 

Her confusion at the wide grin was more than valid, but Quentin dismissed it as he shook his head as he continued to gasp for air. "I _actually_ got the hatch last second. It was in the killer shack."

Meg shook her head in disbelief, crossing her arms with an angry glare. "Bullshit! You were gone for too long! What'd you do, suck his dick?" Laurie's dirty look had Ace howling with laughter.  

Quentin's absolute breathlessness seemed to be enough to convince the group, as a wildespread celebration broke free. 

Quentin just fell backwards off his log, refusing to move even after sleep finally overtook him and calmed his fluttering heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly dont care what anyone says. 
> 
> Unless you have insta-heals, DONT HEAL UNDER THE HOOK *GOD*


	3. Pale Roses In Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where true Beauty can be seen.

* * *

Michael _needed_ to do well this trial. He could feel it in his bones.

The Entity simply _would_ _not_ put Quentin in his trials. It had been fifteen since their last stolen meeting at the MacMillian estate. 

He had gotten four kill after four kill, finishing all without mercy to claim a fleeting moment with his... someone? Titles didn't matter.

Michael missed the trials Quentin had appeared in. He had always saved the sleepy survivor for last, chasing him around before killing him if he failed to get to an escape before his capture. One way or another, he got his kiss each trial. 

He had come to crave that simple touch of skin.

He had come to crave the way Quentin had began to allow him to slip his arms around the taper of his waist, pulling the survivor close and breathing him in.

He had even come to crave that half-embarassed, half-shamed giggle that broke free when Michael would trail those kisses down his throat, nipping at the softness in a threat of a mark. It never failed to make the thin scavenger squirm, half-heartedly pushing at Michael's head while tilting his own back for better access.  

Quentin had quickly learned the rules of their arrangement, pushing his luck more often than not by initating the kiss if he were about to escape. 

Michael's mind drifted back to their last meeting- to the way Quentin had lingered at the exit of the MacMillan escape, his team long gone while he went to get a decent medikit. Michael had approached without hesitation, his blade gleaming with the full power of the tier three focus gained from Quentin himself. Quentin didn't even bat an eye as he shoved his fingers under the neck of his mask, freeing his lips before pulling his head down. Their kisses were always far more intent when there was the threat of death looming behind Quentin's head, even if he knew Michael wouldn't kill him. Michael truly thought just the idea of the danger excited the exhausted survivor. 

When they finally met, Michael swore Herman had been standing behind him- that kiss was pure electricity running through his veins. It was the first kiss that truly left him breathless, groaning against those soft lips as he pressed Quentin against the stone pillar of the exit gate. The  _look_ he had been given as Quentin stepped through the escape was the last thing he had engraved in his mind. The trail of Quentin's fingers sliding against his palm was the last touch they shared.  

Michael hadn't seen him since. 

Not once for _fifteen_ _trials._

It hurt him.

It hurt him more than the asylum had.

He didn't understand why The Entity was punishing him.

The Pale Rose was right infront of him when he opened his eyes.

He clenched his knife in his fist, feeling the charred chunk representing Judith's Tombstone and the Fragrant Tuft thump against his palm.

The Entity wouldn't feed, but it would still be pleased with his offering.

He _would_ appease it this round.

He _WILL_ see Quentin again. 

He began his hunt. 

He found Adam- the new survivor- quickly.

_Pathetically quickly._

God he wanted to plunge his knife into his skull. He could have been Quentin, but instead the Entity sent  _this one._

He was less than four feet away now, and Michael was staring down at him as he rummaged through a chest. 

The man turned triumphantly with a flashlight in his palm before turning and running smack into Michael's chest. 

Michael stared him down as he scrambled to stand, planting his blade into the man's shoulders just after the tune echoed throughout his mind. 

Six seconds. Not nearly enough. Not for what he was doing. He needed a _solid_ twenty-five. Maybe more, if he lost any focus. 

This would be difficult, but this would be worth it. 

He immediately began stalking once more, draining him to a bloody red before moving on as if he had lost the chase. 

The nervous 'leader' was next, stalked from afar. He never even knew Miachel was there until he approached, slashing his back as well. 

The Swede was a sweet final victim after the third tier had popped.

Knowing exactly the type of person the young lady was, he slashed her once and 'lost' her as well. 

She ran- well, crawled is the more accurate term- to Dwight to have her wounds licked. 

With his inner evil churning, he rained hell down upon them. A grab at each brought the sweet taste of instaneous death to the leader and the swede, and Adam got a quick chase around the shack to give him an easy third victim. 

Their blood was beautiful, and it was oddly relaxing to watch it slide down his blade. 

With relaxed shoulders and an open palm, he searched for the final survivor. 

He paused for half a second, realizing he hadn't even seen the final survivor as of yet. Probably the botanist or the saboteur then. They had enough of a mind on their shoulders to stay away when he was in tier three. 

_Aren't **they** in for a surprise. _

His frustration grew as he searched the entire map for the final survivor, finding them  _nowhere._

All of a sudden, the entity turned his attention to the large ship. A noise.

Finally.

At least they were working on a generator, but they weren't getting the hatch today.

He was going straight to that fucking boat, and he was getting his kill. Under five minutes. 

This was going to be _glorious_. 

He ascended the stairs in record time, looking over the top deck to find-

No one.

 _Jesus **Fucking** Christ_. 

He searched around for a full minute, grunting in annoyance as he looked around on the dock of the ship.

He took his frustration out on a nearly completed gen, kicking it with ferocity. That botanist then. He had probably walked right past her. 

Then something thumped against the back of his head. 

He slowly looked down, staring at the pebble at his feet.

 _What_.

 ** _The_**.

 ** _Fuck_**.

He slowly turned, gripping his knife so hard his knuckles turned white.

There, lounging on the wheel of the ship, was his Quentin. 

That sleepy smile and half-crazed laugh both coaxing him in.

They both cleared the rage from his mind as he approached the cockpit of the ship, his heart pounding like a drum as he slammed the knife into the wheel.

Quentin's hands were already on his throat, pushing up the mask as lips prematurely met the rubbery cheek of the white latex. 

Their lips finally met, but there was a fold of latex keeping them from kissing fully.

Michael growled and almost ripped the mask while pulling it off his face. Quentin's body was fully pressed against the wheel now, his smaller hands eagerly investigating messy blonde locks while they tasted their newly shared air.

Michael shamelessly kissed _his_ survivor stupid.

From the noises he was making, Quentin was throughly enjoying it.

They kissed until they both ran out of breath, and Quentin's giggles began anew when stubble scratched at his throat. 

Thin fingers traced through his hair and Michael inhaled deeply with contentment. 

"Head up Michael, I want to see you." His voice was so soft, so soothing. It was second nature to obey the quiet command- it sounded so much like a request, even if its more of a plea. Quentin's smile only grew when their eyes met. "Well hey there handsome. Come here often?"  

Michael immediately scoffed, tilting Quentin's head up to claim another soft kiss. Quentin just giggled against his lips.

"Well, at least I know you missed me! It  _has_ been quite a while, hasn't it?" Michael nodded, pressing their foreheads together and squeezing Quentin's sides. 

"Far too long..." It was nearly a whisper against the air between them, but it was followed by Quentin slipping his arms around Michael's neck and nuzzling under his jaw. "This is gonna sound so weird, but the smell of latex mixes with whatever you use in your hair really well. It smells nice." Michael puffed a laugh, shaking his head to curtain them both with his hair. For once, he had glad he maintained the shoulder-grazing length, even if it was annoying when it got pulled when putting on the mask.

It took a few seconds before he started giggling once more, squeezing Michael tighter. "God, this is so fucked up. I let my team die every time you're supposed to try to kill us, just so I can steal a kiss before I bite the bullet myself. I don't even know what I would do if they found out." Michael squeezed him tighter. Quentin would have to be careful in the next few matches, he would have rather suspicious bruises on his sides. Perhaps he could pass it off as a result of a rather firm iron grasp?

It didn't matter either way. Quentin was his.

Not Freddy's.

Not Boo's. 

Not that saboteur's.

And he certainly wasn't the one who gave him those sultry smirks'.

_**Quentin. Was. His**._

It made it even sweeter when Quentin allowed his head to loll to the side, one arm sliding off his shoulders as his palm gripped the hilt of _his_ knife. 

Both of them could feel the Entity's attention suddenly on them, but paid it no mind as Quentin investigated the keychain. "What are you running? Tombstone and Rabbit?" Michael nodded when the first part was said, but shook his head at the second. Quentin hummed as the entity darkened the world around them. "No rabbit? Is it hair?" 

Michael nodded with a grin. 

Quentin returned it. "Is it fragrant?" 

A kiss for a correct guess. 

Needless to say, they were both surprised when the world threatened to fade around them. Quentin sighed sadly, looking up at the sky before outright yelling 'Joykill!' at the monster looming above. 

After another second of pouting, Quentin turned the knife with a toss, catching it by the back of the blade and holding the handle out to Michael. "Remember our first Mori?"

Michael's grin would have sent Loomis reaching for his gun again.

Quentin just smiled, sliding down the wheel until he was stretching his legs out. Michael tilted his chin up as he twirled his blade in his hand. 

His Quentin died just as beautifully as he did the first time- screaming and bleeding with each thrust of the knife, whimpering and groaning during the reprieves he was allowed. He was struck with a strange urge as Quentin's eyes began to loose focus, and Michael grinned. 

He knew his timing now. 

The kiss was far shorter than their first, but just as satisfying. Michael could feel Quentin's chest sieze and knew it was time. 

His blade plunged into the right side of Quentin's throat, effortlessly tearing through his skin and absolutely _pouring_ out that beautiful crimson. Quentin tried to laugh as he died, but the gurgle from his torn throat was all that escaped with his soul.

Michael had never been so hard in his life.

The Entity allowed him to stare for several minutes, his knife burried deep in Quentin's chest as his palms supported him beside blood-soaked locks. Quentin's blue eyes had finally lost their sheen, sharing lifelessly back at him.

The name of the ship was more fitting for him, especially in death. 

Even Judith wasn't this pretty. 

Boo could never be this pretty, not with that frown on her face. 

He felt his heart clench as Quentin's body began to fade. In the time it took to press one more kiss to his lips, his body had been gifted to the fires of the Entity and had left him. When the darkness came for him, Michael turned his gaze upwards with a determined look.

He didn't need words. 

The Entity knew that Michael  _wanted_ him. 

* * *

The campfire was tense when Quentin's eyes opened. It felt colder than it should, and he knew he was in trouble already. 

Laurie was calmly sitting on a nearby log, looking completely unimpressed with the bandages around his waist. 

Keeping his voice steady, he gave Laurie a lopsided grin. "I think I made him mad, Laurie."

She didn't laugh. 

"I think he's made  _you_ mad Quentin. Tell us the truth." The others looked scared, but he already knew what he would say. 

"I _really_ don't know why he did this to me Laurie. I was trying to do the gen I was put next to on the ship, and I saw Adam get hit first. I knew Dwight was nearby, so I didn't get off. He was healed, then Dwight got hit. I thought Myers was just running scratched mirror or something, so I stayed on it. Nea got hit right next to both of them less than a minute later, and I was almost done. Then..."

He paused for effect, and he knew it worked. Laurie's features softened, and Claudette squeezed Meg's hand. "He had a tombstone. He killed them all while I was still up on that boat. I tried to throw a rock to make him think I had run off, but he went straight up the stairs. I thought he had gone through the underside, so I ran out from the cockpit like a complete idiot." He pushed himself upright, looking down and swearing for both effect and honest urprise. Michael had _really_ gone after him, judging from how much red was already seeping through the bandages. "I tried to vault off the side, but he grabbed me and killed me like he does when I'm last. Any ideas why the Entity didn't heal me this time though?" 

 _That_ had garnered some attention, but his question was ignored or dismissed with a shrug.

Ace tilted his head. "He does that all the time when you're last?" Quentin nodded as Jake helped him sit upright. This angle made it slightly hard to breathe. 

"Why do you think I never really go for saves when we're against him? I know you guys will and I want  _out_ of there." Jake shrugged. "Personally, I'm just happy that I'm on a hook and see someone on a gen. Either way, I know you'll heal if I go to you." Half the group agreed, the other half looked pissed. Whelp, now he knew how screwed he was next time Michael actually hung him up. 

Go figure, the upset ones are all the altruistic ones too. Greaaat.

Quentin looked around in confusion for a second. "Where's my shirt?"

Laurie held it up by the shoulders, and Quentin felt a moment of legitimate fear and surprise. 

A large 'M' was carved into the front with individual stabs, and the entire quilted shirt was dripping blood. 

The terror around the campfire was palpable, and Quentin knew his secret was safe for another round or five.

Dwight's voice trembled as he muttered mostly to himself. "M...maybe we-... shouldn't leave you alone with him." 

Make that ten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know tombstone doesn't work when someone is downed. I didn't know that then, so I'm calling creative liberty.


	4. Watchful eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurie has suspicions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly cant remember if Quentin has add or adhd, so im going with adhd. I suppose i'll find out when i actually watch the movie.

Laurie has always been an observant girl, so she figured out the oddity between Michael and Quentin rather quickly. 

She didn't trust it at all.

She had watched the way Quentin would freeze up upon seeing Michael, backing away slowly as that murderer stared him down. 

She  _knew_ Michael was holding something over Quentin's head. 

With everything he had already gone through with Freddy, to now have to deal with Michael?

She wouldn't allow it. 

And she knew just how to find out what, too.

Her next trial with the two of them, she would be ready. 

* * *

She didn't have to wait horribly long for her chance to strike. 

She had already discussed her plan with all the other survivors, so they were very forgiving when she only rescued once. 

She had remained hidden as Jake and Kate fell victim to the entity. 

Once it was her and Quentin left, Michael had tunneled her ruthlessly. Quentin was lurking near the preschool, heading down the stairs- presumably looking for the hatch. 

Michael's head followed her shifting eyes, and he disappeared into the school.

Laurie gritted her teeth.

It was time.

Growling to herself, she pulled upwards as hard as she could while swinging her legs- 

Freedom! Just like Adam had taught her!

She wouldn't have much time before the Entity ratted her out.

She quickly dashed through the door of the school, heading to the basement to save Quentin from the monster that tormented her and her friends.

She was not prepared to hear Quentin swear, following immediately with 'She got off Michael.'.

_**What**._

She was careful as she poked her head around the corner, watching in horror as Michael lifted his mask from where it rested on the desk beside Quentin. 

Michael trapped Quentin's chin between his thumb and pointer knuckle, leaning in to steal a kiss before covering his blonde locks with his mask once more.

Quentin's nose was tapped by Michael's pointer finger, and Laurie's heart sank when Quentin  _handed Michael his knife back._

She knew her body was moving backwards, toward the top of the stairs. 

Michael took a single step backwards, but Quentin's lips followed. 

Laurie knew she was about to get sick.

She turned to run, but the top stair creaked. 

The chase did not last long, but her blade of glass met Michael's shoulder shortly after. She ran for the exit of the preschool, rounding the corner by the gen with a victorious grin on her face.

Until Quentin stepped out from behind the doorway, catching her by the shoulders and guiding her backward with a frown. "Laurie, let's have a talk." 

She gave him a nervous look as he held her hand, leading her back to the basement of the preschool. 

She didn't struggle against him, following closely in the name of being unseen.

Her heart stopped as he opened the door of the nearby closet, slamming it as hard as he could before leaning against the wall near the staircase. 

While she was fast, she knew she couldn't escape now- not with Michael undoubtedly on his way because of that locker. "Quentin, What the _fuck_?" 

"It's... hard to explain Laurie." At least he had the _decency_ to look sheepish. 

"Well, explain, because it's obvious that you're throwing matches for- for him. You can't even say it's for better survival odds- _he still kills you Quentin!_ "

All she got was a shrug. "He can't always let me win. He has rules he has to follow too."

Laurie scoffed as Michael's boots met the stairs. "Yeah, because it has to be  _fair_ here, you know?" 

Quentin frowned at her as Michael settled beside him. 

Laurie outright glared at the two of them as Michael tilted his head. 

His grip on his knife shifted in time with her heart skipping.

Quentin's hand gently stroked over Michael's, and the grip actually loosened. 

Disgust rose in her throat as Michael's free hand rose, slipping around Quentin's waist and pulling him into a gentle hold. 

The dream walker's head lulled against Michael's shoulder, and all Laurie could think of was her friends in Haddonfield, limp and lifeless as Michael positioned their bodies around 'his' house. 

"Well, it's not like I can leave. Explain away." She crossed her arms, waiting for the long-winded explanation that Quentin was well known for. She didn't hold it against him, tangents were a part of having ADHD and needing to ration your medications between deaths.

Instead, she got a rather short answer from Michael himself when he pointed to Quentin, then pointed to himself before returning the arm around Quentin's waist. 

Laurie's head tilted with mild surprise. "He's yours, huh? Simple as that?"

Michael nodded as Quentin rolled his eyes with a laugh. "Glad to know it's that simple Michael." 

The hand that strangled her precious Lynda rose to stroke through Quentin's hair like he was some prized cat.

Even she had to admit that it was a little cute when the curls atop Quentin's head tried to keep Michael's hand for a few seconds. 

" _Anyway_." Quentin put more of his weight against Michael, making himself comfortable as he thought of how to start. "I guess I should start from the very beginning. My first trial with him, Michael brought a cypress. I guess he could tell I was super new still, because he left me for last. He cut me up pretty good with that, but for  _some_ reason, he decided to kiss me right before I died." Michael's shoulders shook ever so slightly, and Quentin wasted no time in elbowing him. Laurie just gave them both an increasingly disgusted look.

Michael's head dropped to Quentin's shoulder, but his eyes never left Laurie. It was beginning to scare her more than usual... especially when he was standing perfectly still, save for the rise and fall of his chest and the gentle stroking of his thumb against Quentin's stomach.

"I avoided him like the plauge for a few trials, but he kept saving me for last. And for  _some_ reason, he kept kissing me! Still won't tell me why, little shit." Quentin tossed him a glare, but Michael still squeezed him tighter. "After a while, we hit a trial on the preschool. I gave him a good run around and got the hatch, and that's when I realized if I reached the exit first, he would actually let me leave- even if he caught me last second for the usual kiss. It was just kinda building from there."

Laurie put her chin on her palm, resting her elbow on her knee as he continued. "I mean, to sound horribly pathetic, I started throwing matches when I realized Freddy couldn't reach me while I was in a trial. So there's been a _few_ times where I've just gone to the basement after the others have died and taken a nap. Between that and the-" Quentin paused, gesturing with his hand as he tied to think.

"Honestly, the _lack_ of danger with what we'd been doing spurred me on more than anything. It was a weird setup, and I didn't think it was too much of a problem since I did well every other trial- besides, I was only really punishing myself."

Laurie couldn't help the immediate scoff. "Didn't think it was a problem, huh? Because you want it easy for one killer, we all have to suffer Quentin!" 

Quentin shook his head. "I still do the trial as well as I can Laurie. I just don't save _as_ much. You know I still do gens. You  _know_ I still save. I still open doors. I just... linger. Because it's Michael. And if I'm last, I don't always look for the hatch- but that hurts no one but me."

Laurie's scowl grew. "It's a waste of time and materials Quentin!" 

"It's the medkits I find that I heal with Laurie, and you've never _had_ to save me."

 _That_ made Michael's head lift. Quentin immediately stroked the back of his knuckles over the latex cheek of the mask. "She doesn't _have_ to save me Michael. Just like  _I_ don't  _hav_ _e_ to save her. If you want to get technical, this is you versus us, and us versus everyone- _especially_ you." 

Michael's growl was still audible, but his head lowered once more. 

"This is so... **disappointing** Quentin. You could do so much better than a murderer!" Quentin could hear Michael's quiet huff and knew he was rolling his eyes. Quentin hummed, tilting his head as an absolutely knowing grin came over his features. "Well, I already got a pedophile, so does that count?" 

He was  _immediately_ smacked upside the head by Michael, who reared up to his full height to stare Quentin down. 

The survivor burst out laughing, turning in Michael's arms and slipping his arms around his neck. "I get to make that joke. It happened to me!" 

Michael immediately shook his head, squeezing his waist even tighter as Quentin removed the mask. 

Quentin could hear Laurie's back thumping against the wall, but he was far more preoccupied with the mildly annoyed look that was meeting his own grin. 

Tangling his fingers in Michael's hair, Quentin looked over his shoulder. "I think you should go do the gens Laurie. Enjoy the 'benefit' this time." 

She hesitated before sliding off the desk, watching them like a frightened dog as she went towards the stairs. Quentin simply laughed and pulled Michael closer, using his leverage to lead him away from the stairs. He yelped when his legs hit the side of the bed, but wound up grinning even more as Michael quirked a brow. "Well  _this_ is new." 

Laurie's groan was audible from upstairs just before her running footsteps were heard abandoning the school. Michael's eyes drifted upwards as a frown overtook his lips, but Quentin's hands guided his gaze back down. "Ignore her. She'll try to cause trouble, but I know Dwight and Claudette won't allow a fight. I might just die on you a bit more until everyone gets over it. I'm gonna bet four of them are going to be livid, and the others won't really care as long as I try to help them live." 

Michael's gaze was understandably intense, and the determination in that look made Quentin's heart flutter.

"You  _know_ _~..._ " Michael tilted his head as his features faded to confusion. "If she's going to spill the beans on you and I, that means I could _linger_ a little while longer. Like the Pale Rose, but..." Quentin allowed his sentence to trail off, purposefully dragging his nails from the nape of Michael's neck to the top of his forehead in one long drag. 

He could feel the shudder that went through Michael's spine in his very soul. Michael's head tilted the other direction, and Quentin grinned. 

The entity was quite annoyed by the time it noticed the trial was going on _far_ too long after Laurie left.

* * *

 

The campfire was strangely quiet, right up until David saw the hickey resting on Quentin's neck- then the camp split into three groups.

Team 'Proud' consisted of David, Jake, Ace, Kate, and Feng. David  _immediately_ clapped him on the shoulder and laughed as loudly as he could, joined quickly by Jake's quiet snickers and Ace's lighthearted cooing. Kate had her elbows on her knees and her face cupped in her palms, grinning like the demon she was at heart. Feng took half a second to look shocked before saying something in her native tongue, but the waggled eyebrows and nod of approval were more than enough to make Quentin laugh and guess what she had said. 

Team 'Embarrassed On His Behalf' was Dwight, Claudette, Adam, and surprisingly Nea.

Dwight and Claudette's reddened cheeks refused to turn his way without burying the respective faces into their hands. Adam seemed to be surprised, but was far to mild mannered to ever be angry. Quentin didn't even think he  _had_ an angry setting. Nea just sat with pursed lips and a slight nod, not talking as redness slowly overtook her cheeks.

Team 'Pissed' was Meg and Laurie. He was honestly surprised it was just those two, but the two others he thought would be upset surprised him the most. 

Bill looked rather unimpressed with everything. Apparently hooking up with a murderer wasn't the worst thing he could think of. 

Tapp was the other surprising result, as the officer shrugged with the dismissal of 'I've seen way worse than some hanky-panky with someone you're not supposed to snuggle with. If you get stabbed, that's on you- and you tend to find your own medkits.'. Such a professional, that one. 

Jake started the laughter anew when he tossed Quentin a tube of mechanical lube with a wink.

When the two angered girls stormed off in a huff, Quentin was pressed by the two amused girls for _**all** _the juicy details of how he and Michael got together- this time with cooing and random gamer squeals. 

By the end they all agreed that they might find Dwight's face at some point, but Quentin had heard melted faces are pretty hard to recover.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know Quentin's joke is dark ASF.  
> He just seems like he would be the type of person to need to find humor in something or it would destroy him


	5. Gifts From The Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael gets a gift

The other killers figured out what was happening rather quickly. 

Apparently Meg and Laurie had stopped saving and healing Quentin all together, often running past him in a chase in an attempt to pass the killer off to him- no matter what state he was in. 

The Trapper was the one to call a meeting about it after hearing Meg call him some rather crude things as he died in a hook, even after he had saved her from her previous two hooks. 

Overall, it went as well as one would expect. Most killers didn't care, some were outright horrified and made vows to take it easier on him (bless Phillip's soul, he was too kind for this work and it rubbed off on the ladies), and two were rather vindictive about it- even if you couldn't tell with one of them.

Freddy was still raving none-too-quietly as they neared the end of the meeting, but he was easy to ignore- right up until he said a single sentence.

"How _dare_ she mistreat what is **_MINE_**?!"

The entire campfire went silent when Michael- quiet, well behaved Michael, who never hurt anyone outside of trials- immediately drove his blade into Freddy's throat, nearly decapitating him on the spot.

His head slowly turned towards the other killers, giving them a nearly imperceptible shake of his head that had Anna laughing loudly. 

The knife was removed with a sharp pull, and Freddy clutched his throat as he choked on his own blood. 

What a baby. He would heal and he knew it.

Some laughter mixed in with horrified groans of disgust, but Michael simply tilted his blade to allow the green fluid to drip off naturally. He would clean it later, if he did not need it again before the end of this meeting. 

With Freddy effectively silenced, Evan continued with a shake of his head. 

" _Anyway._ We can't take it too easy on the survivors- we still have to protect ourselves. I say we simply save him for last more often than not, give him the most time to escape if they're not going to help him survive. I know he's a smart boy, he never saves if we 'face camp'." Watching Evan use air quotes was something that had the entire camp cracking into laughter- save for the gagging Freddy and the ever silent Michael- which took several minutes to subside. 

Knowing his time was drifting to a close- mainly due to Freddy's breath beginning to level- Evan rolled his eyes dramatically. "Alright, Everyone go do your own shit. Just know that something is going down in the survivor camp, and they're letting it effect trials. Plan for the Entity accordingly."

The group began to dissolve into the usual groups- the loners going their own way, those that desired company chattering about whose home they would be lounging at.

Michael hovered for a moment, thinking on whether or not he felt like indulging Anna's desire to cuddle things. As he did most 'days', he leant towards no. He turned away from the group and began his short walk to his home in Haddonfield. 

Three steps in, he heard heavy footfalls behind his own. Slowing his pace for a few steps, Evan easily caught stride. 

They remained quiet until they were beyond the trees, then Evan gave him a rather fatherly look. "Are you okay Michael? You usually don't snap at Freddy like that."

Michael nodded, making sure to keep his shoulders and hands relaxed. 

"What do you think on this whole survivor thing?" 

Michael shook his head in a firm negative, barely tilting his head towards Evan.

"Don't like it? I feel that. It weirds me out when they fight." Evan crossed his arms as they walked, shaking his head. 

Michael remained silent, shifting his grip on his knife to alleve some of his growing frustration.

Evan's eyes drifted to the knife, but ignored it effortlessly.

"Was it just a bad day for Freddy to open his trap?" 

Michael shook his head no once more, causing Evan's steps to falter. His head tilted, but he caught back up within a few steps. 

Michael's eyes were on Evan, even if his face was forward. Evan was watching him just as closely.

He seemed to realize something right then, tilting his head down as his arms fell from their crossed position. "Michael..."

His tone was a mix of surprise and caution.

"You're not. _Tell me_ you're not the one Quentin is..."

The lack of response drew a sigh as they broke the treeline. They remained silent until they reached Michael's porch, upon which Michael sat with liquid grace. His legs easily reached the third step, but Evan did not join him as usual. Instead, he stood in front of him with a worried frown. 

"How long Michael?" 

Michael put two of his fingers together, dragging them apart slowly. 

"A while then?" 

A nod.

A sigh.

"The Entity is going to kick your ass when it finds out, and then it's going to go after Quentin. You know this, right?"

There's the reason Michael liked Evan- _that tone_. Evan brought back the scarce memories of his father when he used _that_ _tone_.

Michael shook his head in denial. He pointed upwards, then tapped his temple.

Evan was shocked.

" _It knows_ _already_?" 

Michael nodded. He paused for a moment, thinking of how he wanted to express his thoughts. 

He pointed to himself and then the empty space beside him, then made a gap with his hands and accentuated the length with his fingers. Pointing upwards again, he used his hand to separate him and the air beside him.

It took Evan a long moment to understand, but his ongoing practice with Phillip paid off. 

"If you two stay together too long, it separates you. I'm assuming you see each other after the other survivors are gone then?" 

Michael nodded, then the Trapped mirrored it to show his understanding.

That's when Evan snorted a disbelieving, yet relieved laugh. 

"So, I _have_ to ask now. How often do you get a piece of that?" He waited with obvious amusement until he realized Michael's head was slowly tilting more and more. He sighed, giving him a look- almost begging him to understand.

No response.

Michael grinned under his mask as Evan hefted a sigh that held the weight of his soul. 

Michael _loved_ to mess with the good-natured 1800s man under the mask.

"Sex, Michael. How often have you had Sex?"

Michael held up one finger.

Evan put a hand to his chest to look offended. "Tell me you two are just recently starting to... _do it_ then, or I gotta call him cruel!" 

Michael nodded and Evan laughed as he finally sat beside Michael, clapping his hand onto Michael's shoulder for a soft squeeze. "Atta boy! You better treat him right or  _I'll_ kick _your_ ass, got it?" 

Michael nodded again, lightly patting Evan's hand before it fell from his shoulder. Evan stepped away, nodding his approval. "I'll keep you posted on who gives him shit during trials-  and _please_ don't start too many fights with Freddy. I really don't want to hear him bitching more than usual." 

Michael waved his hand in a so-so motion, and the Trapper burst into laughter. He just waved as he walked away. 

* * *

Quentin had it slightly harder- who knew two angry survivors could cause so many problems!

But, he happened to notice a balancing effect- other killers were beginning to ignore him until the late game if Meg or Laurie were involved.

The Wraith happened to be the funnest, often ignoring him during chases with Meg or Laurie only to camp them and ring his bell-  _directly infront of their face_ \- until they finally died.  If he was last on his trials, he was allowed to leave (if the hatch had spawned) with a pat on the head. If they had not done enough gens, Quentin willingly went to meet his fate. 

The silent killer was so similar to Michael, he and quentin struck up a fast friendship. Quentin found himself able to take small naps with the Wraith as well.

The Trapper was an interesting one, choosing to simply save him for last to give him as much time as possible to escape. Even if he wasn't in a chase, he wouldn't go after Quentin- even if the sleepy survivor approached him directly. One occasion, when he was the last on the hook, the Trapper had given him a very casual thumbs up as he died. 

It was good to know Michael had some friends. 

Needless to say, when Quentin was in his next trial with Michael, it went absolutely hysterically.

Especially since it was Dwight, Feng, and Meg with him. 

Feng took to dealing out what she called "Hot Ramen"- apperently she thought revenge is best served hot- by  _doggedly following Meg around and poking her as she died._

Michael watched it all with absolute amusement, up until the Entity removed a livid Meg. Then Feng pointedly turned to Michael, crossing her arms as she stared him down. "C'mon, your man is waiting! Stab me!" 

He promptly gave her two slices. If it happened to be in places that would heal easier, he _neeever_ could have known. 

She struggled against the hook, allowing the Entity to take her quickly and without hesitation. 

Dwight was nervously standing near a haybale as she died, offering himself up with far less words. When he died, Barbecue and Chilli gave him the outline of his beautiful Quentin sitting in the windowsill of the Thompson house, kicking his feet. 

He didn't run when Michael approached.

When the Entity eventually began to blurr the world around them, Quentin held him close. Michael drug his fingers through Quentin's hair as the other squeezed him close, playing with the metal of the necklace that once draped over his beloved's shoulders. 

It was his now, and Michael vowed to never take it off.

When the world went black without the fourth death, Michael prepared himself for the worst.

Surely he wouldn't be punished _too_ badly for not completing one measley trial. 

* * *

To say Laurie was upset was an understatement. 

She was disgusted. She was livid.

She was hurt, deep in her soul. 

Quentin knew what Michael had done to her friends, yet he still chose to love that... that _monster_. 

But she didn't know what to do.

The other survivors all sided with Quentin in one way or another, even  _congradulating him_ on finding happiness in this hell hole. 

When he reappeared with his precious medalian missing from it's spot around his neck, she felt like she would be physically ill.


	6. Muscle Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small observation and a big problem.

Freddy had learned one thing in his life: if you're going to do something disgusting, keep your eye on who you do it to. 

So naturally, he kept his eyes on his children- even after his death. 

He knew of Nancy's coping sketchbooks.

He knew of Kris' relationship habits. 

And he knew of Quentin's religious beliefs- therefore he knew how much that stupid little necklace meant to his boy.

So when a trial began without it tangled against his throat, Freddy noticed. 

He noticed that it never _returned_ either.

He also noticed that Quentin was _suspiciously_ unconcerned with its disappearance...

So he  _must_ have a crush on one of his little survivor friends.

Twitching his blades together, he looked around Haddonfield. Not a bad map, even if he disliked the owner.

Fucker was too quiet. It was creepy. 

 _Buuuuut_ that had nothing to do with the nervous leader, the botanist, the meat wall- that was the new survivor, and his _dearest_ Quentin.

Finding his boy was easy. He'd always had an affinity for finding things, even when he was little. Trapping him as he searched a chest wasn't hard, and neither was putting him in the basement. 

It warmed Freddy's heart how his survivor _knew_ when he lingered. Perhaps he _could_  feel the blades creeping up his thighs after all?

The newbie rescued him, fleeing back up the stairs without ensuring that Quentin got out as well.

_Oh well, beginner's mistake~_

Quentin was quickly ushed back into the dream world, his blades forcing the young man to collapse on the stairs. He was easily dragged back to the basement at the cost of some scraped skin. 

Now, Freddy knew he couldn't catch all four survivors.

That's why he usually chose _one_ to harass, and thoroughly enjoyed the time he got to do so. 

When it was Quentin, it was even sweeter time spent.

As sweet as the look of horror on his face was when he was questioned about his medallion.

Quentin bristled like an angry cat, and Freddy laughed as his foot met that broad chest far too harshly.

_Lordie had he grown since preschool!_

"Now _Q_ _uen_ , you know I don't like secrets that _I_ didn't make- even if you always _were_ good at keeping them." The look of disgust and shame had Freddy laughing. 

Unable to resist, he loomed over Quentin and he continued to bleed out on the stained concrete. "I'm gonna find _whoever_ it is that thinks that they can touch you Quen. I'm gonna find them, and I'm gonna kill them nice and slow- right in front of you. Just like Dean. Wanna know _why,_ Quen?" 

The leader's footfalls echoed down the stairs as Freddy wiggled his blades. The look of fear in **_his_ **survivor's eyes was utterly  _ **delicious**. _"Cause _I'm_ your boyfriend now, you little **_bitch_**." 

The nervous survivor's horrified look as Quentin's face was sliced open was admittedly hilarious. The slow retreat of footsteps as Quentin was sliced to ribbons was even sweeter.

Three escaped, but not any that Freddy cared about. 

* * *

At the campfire, Claudette tried her best to keep the scars as minimal as possible. Sadly, they were still painfully visible when the next trial started. 

A small part of Quentin didn't want it to be Michael. 

He didn't want him to see his face marred by Freddy- marred like the rest of him.

But the majority wanted nothing more than to curl into his arms as generators popped around them, knowing that Michael didn't really care about his features being as royally fucked as the rest of him.

That small part was squashed when he saw a bear trap gleaming in the dirt, filed to a gleam and ready to hurt someone rather badly.  

Gripping his elbows, he stared for several seconds.

It took more effort than it really should have to tear his eyes away and find a generator. 

Two gens in, Meg ran the Trapper past him in an attempt to pass him off. Evan acknowledged him with a nod and a slight hesitation before turning suddenly and smacking Meg through a pallet.

She went on the hook right next to Quentin's gen.

Quentin looked up to the Trapper, glancing between her and his gen. The killer nodded towards his gen, and Quentin continued his work as Meg began cursing him out.

After a few rather creative insults, Quentin finished his gen. 

To Quentin's eternal amusement, the Trapper tapped the windowsill beside him in an invitation.

Quentin accepted it with only slight hesitation and kicking feet. 

With a firm grip on the window, Quentin turned a polite smile to Evan. "So, how's things in your other trials?" 

Evan gave him a thumbs up as Meg insulted Quentin's mother. 

Quentin nodded, looking to his left as another gen popped. Evan shook his head, and Quentin remained seated. 

Evan tilted his head to stare for several seconds, earning a confused look from Quentin. "Is your face going to be okay?"

Quentin shrugged halfheartedly. "It doesn't hurt, but it'll probably scar. Freddy got me good when he realized I had given away my necklace."

Meg's surprise at Evan's voice was met with the Entity's claws coming down around her, forcing her to fight for her life as she cursed them both out.

They filled the short time Meg had left with idle chit-chat, with Quentin spending extended time talking to him about Michael's newest habit of trying to swipe random things from Quentin's person. Evan's chuckles echoed around them as Quentin retold the time Michael had tried to take his medication, resulting in a rather serious lecture as running footsteps began to approach.

Kate's footsteps slammed to a screeching halt when she saw Quentin and the Trapper. 

The dream walker scooted closer to the killer, making room for Kate on the windowsill. 

After a confirmation nod from the not-so-homicidal trapper, she fixed her tanktop and marched right up to the killer that stood mere feet away from Meg-

Formally introducing herself with a rather southern handshake. Quentin nearly fell off the windowsill laughing when Evan's shoulders shook in return, bowing and bringing her far smaller hand to his mask in a faux kiss while introducing himself.

Meg inched closer to death as Kate questioned him about the MacMillian estate, eager to take advantage of the rare opportunity to learn about a killer.

When her arms began to inch closer and closer to her chest, the Trapper paused the polite questioning to stand right in front of Meg. 

"Now, young lady. I _know_ you don't approve of Quentin and Michael- However, what they do _doesn't_ effect you. That bein' said, If you keep trying to get him killed, I'm gonna keep watching you die as your teammates escape. You take this little time out and tell Michael's sis this too. It's _mighty_ aggravatin'."

Meg tried to spit in his face as she was impaled, but missed as she was robbed of the air to give the loogie the proper leverage. 

Kate huffed as she rolled her eyes. "No respect, I tell ya!" 

Evan rolled his eyes as he led them to a generator. Detective Tapp quickly found them- introducing himself since Kate oh-so-politely pointed him out the _literal second she saw him_ \- only to politely dip on the group in the name of personal safety.

Evan didn't take it personally. 

Quentin and Kate happily farmed with him as Tapp had promptly left as soon as the gates were powered, taking two hooks each in the name of totems and taking turns whacking Evan with the pallets scattered around them. 

Kate enjoyed that part far too much, giving the Trapper a merry run around as Quentin raided every single chest he could find. The young man was offered the last pallets, but refused them in favor of compiling a gift for Claudette in return for fixing his face. He had promised to only use his medkits to heal himself after all, and the supplies she had used had been her own.

The survivors parted ways at the Exit gate after Quentin surrendered his created kit with his plan, then turned to a surprised Evan to be killed. 

Accepting with a shrug and smacking him with his blade, Evan took the boy to the basement for his sacrifice. 

Evan watched the snickering teen die after blowing a kiss to the once-friendly killer and giving him the task of passing along a message that Evan did  _not_ intend to repeat word for word.  

He disappeared with an eyeroll. 

Back at the killer campfire, it was a bit of a mess- as it had been since The Legion's arrival.

It had caused a bit of a division in the camp- namely with many killers thinking some survivors had happened upon their fire and gearing up for a slaughter, only to be 'dabbed' on and introduced as the new  _group_. 

Their rambunctiousness was an unwelcome change, especially with the youngest one- Susie- incessantly flirting with Michael. 

To this day, neither he nor Michael understood what her obsession with comparing Michael to a 'snack' was. Michael had promised to ask Quentin during their next meeting in the hope that he would know.

But for now, Michael was taking her flirtations in stride, not acknowledging her as she constantly slid up to his side in an attempt to 'get to know him better'. More often than not, The Shape would simply stand and retreat to his own map to await summons for a trial. 

This time, Evan followed him. The Haddonfield stalker paused briefly to allow him to catch up, and it was a quiet walk once more. 

When they reached the porch of Michael's house, Evan waited for the other to turn and face him before he spoke. "I figured I should tell you. I just got out of a match with Quentin-" Lord, the way he perked up at the mention of Quentin was adorable "-and I figured you would like some notice."

Michael's head tilted. 

Evan braced for the worst. 

"Freddy noticed Quentin's necklace was gone and fucked him up pretty bad. I'm  _guessin_ he gave it to you." 

Michael's shoulders tensed, but he remained otherwise unreactive. After a few seconds, a familliar medalion was freed from blue overalls. 

Evan nodded his approval and understanding in the same gesture. "His face is prolly gonna scar, but it's all cosmetic damage. 'M tellin ya this 'cause he was pretty skittish when I first found him, so I don't need to be told that he's all worried you won't like him with his face all scarred up. I would give healthy consideration to throwin' your next match with him and givin' him some attention- Let him know you still love 'em." 

On the surface, Michael took the news of Quentin's injury well. He nodded his understanding, but the grip on his knife was all the information that Evan needed to politely take his leave.

Michael stepped into his house, quietly closing the door behind him.

The resounding  _thud_ of a knife jamming into the wall immediately after the door closed had Evan walking faster than he would ever admit. 


	7. Actions and Consequences

It took four more trials for the lovers to be paired up again, and it was perhaps the _worst_ lineup to steal a meeting with. 

Michael hadn't even been aware it was one of their meetings until two survivors were already close to death.

Bill avoided Quentin like the plague, unwilling to die for the young survivor. Michael had found him first and hunted him down ruthlessly in the name of maintaining the Entity's favor.

Laurie had fallen after saving Bill. She went on his hook, and the vet fell once more near the killer shack. Laurie was saved as soon as Bill went down, and Meg's infernal flashlight forced Michael to drop the elderly survivor.

He changed his route to follow the redhead, wasting several precious minutes as she ran him across the map twice. 

Two gens had popped during the chase, and the third popped so close to the ironworks they were looping it would have been foolish not to break the chase. 

He froze in his tracks as he rounded the corner _just_ as Quentin did. 

His hands reflexively came up to balance his survivor, rising to stroke his cheeks once Quentin's footing was regained. 

That shy smile proceeded Quentin stepping back, gesturing upwards with his head. "I'll meet you upstairs when you're done wi-" 

Michael shook his head. 

Quentin gave him a confused look before he was guided up the stairs and into the little control room, with Michael sliding back against a corner and opening his arms. 

Quentin glanced over his shoulder with confusion, but Michael's hands guiding him down was answer enough. 

His mask came off in favor of kissing all over Quentin's new scars, trailing the pads of his fingers over the welted flesh with utmost care. 

Those same hands trailed through his hair while the final two generators popped, allowing the dream walker to relax under soft lips. His own hands tangled in a chain that used to be his, resting over a solid heartbeat that steadily slowed as they continued to ignore the fabricated world around them. 

Neither moved as the exit gates opened on the other side of the wall.

Neither moved as footsteps ascended the stairs. 

Michael's head rose when an older figure peered through the window. Quentin didn't bother to raise his head from where it currently rested on Michael's shoulder. 

Bill stared for a long moment before nodding and taking a drag of his cigarette. "The Entity makes you two leave pretty quick after we're all gone, don't it?" 

Quentin's head turned to the vet before he nodded. 

Bill took another drag of his cigarette. "Well. You two have fun up here. I think I might go see if I can find some totems, maybe the hatch, open up that extra gate..." He shrugged nonchalantly as Michael's head tilted. "You know. Since you're  _obviously_ chasing Quentin, and I don't want you springing NOED on us. Can't leave the boy behind, ya know?"

Quentin giggled as Michael didn't seem to get the point, rolling his eyes before pulling the other's head down for a kiss. 

With realization flashing across the blonde's face, Bill scoffed and rolled his eyes before disappearing into the night.

Meg and Laurie left shortly after, presumably under the watchful eye of the eldest survivor.

Bill was found-quite a while later-napping against the furthest exit gate. Quentin woke him with a gentle shake, doing his best to cover the marks on his neck with the collar of his jacket. It was an impossible job, but Bill appreciated the sentiment toward his comfort as he stretched and left the trial. 

Michael pulled Quentin into his arms once more, dipping his head for his goodbye kiss. 

It lasted until the world began to fade around them, Quentin's digits trailing over Michael's jaw and the chain of Michael's necklace before he stepped back, allowing the Entity to seperate them with an invisible barrier. 

His mask was put back on just before he was retrieved. 

When his shoes met the firm soil of the killer campfire, conversations continued as usual- right up until Freddy opened his trap.

"Interesting necklace there, Michael.  _Where'd you get that?"_

The campfire fell silent as Michael ignored the dream master with a heavy sigh.

Sadly, the other killer didn't seem to get the memo. He rose quickly, cutting off Michael's path back to Haddonfield.

"I asked you a question,  _boy._ " 

Even The Legion were completely silent, waiting with bated breath as Freddy's hand shot up to pull the mask free from Michael's face. His other hand rose to slash at the taller's throat.

"You fucking  _prick! He's **mine!**_ _"_ Freddy roared his rage, putting as much as he could into his attack, cofident he was about to make an example of the silent man.

Too bad the glistening blades didn't make it that far. 

The gloved hand was caught effortlessly, and the mask fell from his free hand as panic seemed to rise in the smaller killer's features. 

Michael regarded him with sheer boredom as he lifted the dream master by his wrist, ignoring how he was kicked in a futile attempt at freedom. 

Frank's quiet _'oh fuck'_ was  _almost_ enough to make Michael grin- but the growing rage within him quickly swallowed that urge. 

Instead, Michael clenched his fist around the wrist in his grasp. Freddy screamed as bones audibly shattered, trying to steady himself as Michael's other hand jammed his prized chef's knife into Freddy's gut- freeing the hand to grip his face.

Freddy's wrist was released as his weight was now supported by his face, but the increasingly panicked kicks were planted on a body seemingly made of marble. They had about the same effect after all.

The silence continued to reign as the pressure around his head increased, with only Freddy's screams breaking the silence as his head was slowly crushed between Michael's palms. Even Jeffery remained frozen with awe and fear, holding wheezing breaths with terror of how effortless it was for Michael to end a life unaided by a weapon.

With lightning-fast precision, the blade was gripped just before Michael let go of the mush that remained of Freddy's head.

The weight of his own body soon had Freddy's guts exposed to the air, and Anna was nodding her approval.

Michael silently retrieved his mask from the dirt beside Freddy's body, his eyes connecting with Susie's for a single moment before Michael's face was covered once more. The gore on his hands-on on his mask- didn't phase Michael.

He would clean them both later.

He relished the silence as he mindlessly fiddled with  _his_ necklace, strolling back to Haddonfield without any determination in his stride. 

The only sound he heard was Legion quickly vaulting the logs and fleeing back to their own territory.

He closed his eyes as the fog engulfed him.

...It stung...

Michael didn't whimper or whine. 

After all, The Entity was displeased. Whimpering made it's anger worse.


	8. A Fitting Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a short one because i felt like it

Michael wasn't concerned with the Entity's anger. He had seen it a thousand times over the course of his life. 

It's anger was as fickle as it's territories and it's whims. 

When that black mass enveloped him, threatening to crush him under the weight of it's rage, Michael was unconcerned. 

When his mask dissolved in tandem with his knife, he didn't flinch.

He could feel the needle-like appendages suddenly appear around his shoulders, his waist, his thighs, but Michael's only reaction was to gently stroke his fingertips over the one near his waist. 

The grip loosened ever-so-slightly. 

Most would call it a tense moment of silence as Michael stared into the blackness of the fog, watching the thoughts of what had happened moments ago get pulled to the front of his mind by a will not his own. 

All while those tendrils tightened around him, increasing in number as his arms and throat were threatened. 

One of the thinner appendages around his throat coaxed upwards, running through his hair with an angle precise enough to pierce into his skull. 

Michael simply allowed his eyes to close, tilting his head back to rest against the sturdy body of the appendage. 

Another from his throat angled to trace the dip of his collarbone, lifting the delicate chain of the religious artifact. 

Michael felt the entirety of the appendages tremble around him with an incomprehensible mix of amusement and rage.

It's grip on him loosened once more. 

Michael didn't fight the burn that overtook him, instead staring directly into the dark mass he had come to know. 

When he opened his eyes again, he felt colder. A glance at his hands showed his overalls were gone, and he was left in his underclothes- a simple black tee and some black sweatpants. His boots were still on, so he didn't care too much about the cold earth beneath his feet. 

Looking up, he was met with the mix of surprised and horrified faces of Laurie, Meg, and Feng. 

The Asian was first to speak.

"...well then. Guess The Entity got sick of your shit, Mikey-boi!"

Michael gave a half-hearted shrug, overall indifferent to his situation. 

Right up until Feng turned on her heel, inhaling before outright _yelling_ "OH QUEEEEEEENNTIIIIN! YOUR BF GOT DROPPED FROM THE ROSTER!" 

Michael politely ignored Laurie as she backed into the treeline like a cornered cat, choosing instead to focus on Quentin's look of utter surprise as he came around one of the larger trees.

It was slightly harder to ignore Feng's cooing as Quentin's arms slid around his neck, pulling him close with a wide smile as Meg made a disgusted noise. 

It was _impossible_ to ignore Feng wheeling on Meg, tearing into her about her salty attitude and how she should find a branch to-  _oh._

Michael tried his best not to listen after that. Quentin's reddening cheeks prompted him to take Michael by the hand and lead him toward the survivor campfire, leaving the two women to squabble in peace. 

Claudette was hesitant to approach the killer at first, but quickly won over simply by how Quentin kept glancing at him with steadily reddening cheeks. Michael made it a point to behave as he was subjected to Claudette's mothering. As she checked and tended to his minuscule wounds as he watched the reactions of the others.

Ace was with David, hassling Quentin about his lover's appearance- the two were still overtaken with the novelty of seeing a maskless Michael for the first time. 

Dwight was running around for Claudette, fetching various things as she looked over the various cuts Michael had obtained from his recent trials. Those two were currently muttering between themselves about the unsanitary nature of the pallets as Claudette rubbed an alcohol swab over a rather deep scratch. 

Kate moved to shoo Ace and David away once they started messing up Quentin's hair, protectively smothering a flailing Quentin in her chest.

Nea didn't bother to move from her place on Bill's lap, but did give a nonchalant wave when Michael looked her way. Michael returned it with an equal lack of enthusiasm.

Detective Tapp was sitting near Adam and Jeff, showing them an object in his palm and explaining something in a quiet voice. 

Jake emerged from the trees seconds later, Feng Min clutched to his chest and an absolutely put-upon expression on his face. He dropped the smaller woman beside Kate, then joined Bill and Nea. 

By the time Claudette had finished, Quentin had been released from his mammary confinement and had taken a new residence under Michael's arm to pout. 

Formal introductions went quickly, and Michael made a point to remember their names- even if he knew most already from trials. He hadn't met the newest one- Jeff- and tried not to unnerve him by staring. 

Quentin's cheeks flushed when the soft-spoken man asked how Quentin knew Michael. 

His obvious discomfort with the fact Quentin had been getting 'friendly' with a killer was politely ignored in favor of Feng's equally discomforting grin. "Sooooo~ What's your teachables?"

Michael's head tilted. 

Quentin pulled a small wooden trinket out of his inner jacket pocket. "Our perks look like this. After you level them up through the Entity, they start to glow like mine do. That means others can find them in the bloodweb. They're usually on your person when you first arrive." 

A quick investigation yielded three little tokens in his pocket, all of which he could easily hold in one hand. The text engraved on the back was legible, but in an unreadable language that translated itself in his mind.

The first had the outline of his precious mask engraved on the front, an empty silhouette except for the dead black eye sockets that seemed to stare into the viewer's very soul. 

_Watchful Gaze- A natural habit that became an abnormal behavior._

_When a killer injures a survivor you have previously done cooperative actions with for at least 10/7/5 seconds, their aura is revealed to you for 15/30/60 seconds, and their scratch marks disappear for 3/4/5 seconds._

_Watchful Gaze has a cooldown of 60/50/40 seconds._

The second was an image of a barren room, housing only a bed that was chained to the wall.

_Maximum Security- Beginning from a young age, your captivity in the secure ward have taught you lessons on how to control yourself._

  * _You cannot enter the injured state._
  * _You do not leave pools of blood._
  * _A second hit will put you in the **dying** state, and require 15/10/5 additional seconds to heal. _



The third was an image of a young boy, sitting in a chair with his hands folded in his lap. His face was not visible, as his head was slightly downcast to allow his hair to obscure his features. 

 _Selective Mute_ _-_ _When words are used against you, you learn to hold your tongue._

_Your breathing is 50/75/100%  quieter, and your breathing when injured is 25/50/75% quieter._

Michael looked them over carefully before handing them over to Feng Min. It only took a few seconds before most of the survivors caved, gathering around to read Michael's perks. David spoke for the group when he scoffed. "Ya better level up yer bloodweb fast, I wanna learn these!"

Michael rolled his eyes and pulled Quentin's legs over his lap. 

With Laurie and Meg on the other side of the campfire, things calmed down until a trial began.

 


	9. The First Trials

His first trial as a survivor was certainly set to be interesting. In with Quentin, Laurie, and Jake, Michael looked around before cracking a grin. 

Haddonfield. 

Simply _perfect_. 

He immediately stepped back into the shadows, moving through the backyards with his usual liquid grace. 

Knowing there would be a gen in his home, he made a beeline to the house with the pumpkin on the porch. 

Kneeling before the generator in  _his_ room- of all places, it was  _in. his._ _room._ - he carefully began mimicking the procedure he had observed so many times. 

He was halfway through cleaning out the gunk when Laurie appeared in the doorway. 

Both hesitated upon sight of the other, staring each other down for a long, tense moment before Laurie carefully knelt beside him. Cleaning out the gen went smoothly, and the repair began. It was mostly twisting together matching wires, pushing cogs back in place, and wrapping loose pipes with tape. 

Michael's head snapped towards the floor, and he quickly grabbed Laurie's arm to pull her onto the awning. The Spirit materialized seconds later, smacking her blade into some of the newly repaired wires. She could be heard running around the upstairs before leaving altogether. Sneaking back inside, Laurie showed him the button that activated the safety for the generators, stopping any further regression. 

It came to life under their hands less than a minute later, and Michael slid out the back with nothing more than a nod. 

The house across the street flickered with a half-powered generator, so Michael decided to hang back and head back into his home to look for the basement. 

He smirked as he found it, gliding down the stairs to check the far corner. It was empty, so he turned to check the nook.

Quentin was grinning widely, clutching a medkit to his chest. 

Michael took a few long, _long_ seconds to kiss him, barely able to suppress his chuckle at the half-dazed look Quentin was left with. When a bird landed threateningly on the nearby locker, Michael took Quentin by the hand and guided him across the street to work on the gen in the basement. 

Jake already had it half finished. 

Just before it was completed, Laurie was injured. Michael's eyes were drawn upwards instinctually, causing him to cross the wrong wires. 

The loud bang startled him, leaving him with wide eyes and a stinging sensation on the back of his hand. It was an error easily forgiven, as Laurie went down shortly after the generator came to life. 

Michael nodded to both as he moved towards Laurie's dangling silhouette. Rin could be heard phasewalking down the street, and Michael made sure to walk at a steady rate, using the bushes and fences to his advantage. Laurie was soon freed, but fled before Michael was able to heal her injuries. 

He assumed it was for the best- no one had shown him what to do yet.

His gaze was torn to the other side of the street, where Jake was suddenly on a hook. Probably pulled off a generator. 

Michael ducked into the nearby house, waiting for the sound of phasing to disappear. Instead, he heard a soft gasp behind him as his heart suddenly pounded in his ears. 

He turned to see a very surprised Rin, looking at him questioningly. 

He pointed at himself, then towards Jake's silhouette on the hook. 

Her head tilted before her eyes lit up in recognition, quickly transforming to confusion. 

Michael pointed upwards, then shrugged. 

Rin's face twisted to amusement before she shrugged as well. She grasped the floating portion of her elbow in her usual shy manner as she gave her eerie version of a chuckle, then reaching up to pat his head. 

Michael pointed to himself, wagged his finger no, pointed to a hook, made a holding motion, then pointed at Rin, as he mouthed 'I won't hold death against you' slowly enough for her to follow along.

It took her a few seconds to understand, but she figured it out. 

She put her open hand to her lips, gesturing to Michael with a wide smile.

She pointed at herself, wagged her finger no, then at her eyes, then pointed to Michael.

Michael grinned before nodding, and she smiled in return as she stared at him for several seconds.

When she disappeared, he moved to rescue Jake. 

Just before Jake hit struggle, Michael lifted him off the hook. 

His confused look was clarified as Michael pointed to himself, his lips, then made a stabbing motion. Jake shrugged and pointed to his medkit. 

He showed Michael how to apply a very rough heal, nodding his appreciation before disappearing into the yards. 

By the time Michael found another gen, Jake had finished his, and Laurie had been downed, saved, and healed. 

It took longer than it should, but Michael finished his gen by himself. 

Literal seconds later, the final gen popped on the other side of the neighborhood. 

Stepping outside the smaller house, he found the hatch immediately. Unable to resist, he casually knocked over a pallet. 

It felt oddly good to not associate that sound with pain.

Rin appeared seconds later, surprised to see Michael. He nodded toward the hatch with a grin. 

She grinned as well, disappearing once more. 

Jake was hooked with the assisted power of NOED, and died on the hook. Laurie was downed for spending time at the gate to taunt the spirit. 

When Michael approached her crawling form, Quentin seemed to be running a negotiation from a few yards away from her. 

Michael walked up rather fearlessly, completely derailing the conversation at hand. 

Michael ignored Laurie crawling for the exit as he pulled Quentin close, grinning as he put his arms around the smaller survivor. 

Rin utterly lit up with excitement, clapping her hands together as she pointed between the two of them. 

Michael nodded as Quentin covered his growing flush with his hands. She quickly stepped forward to lightly pat at his hands and giggle. 

She shooed them both to the exit as Laurie _almost_ crawled out, but she began screaming and cursing as Rin picked her up last second. 

Michael gave the spirit a half-pointed look, and her lips quirked before she winked. 

Michael smiled as Quentin left just a step before he did with a far too casual shrug. 

At the Campfire, Jake was snickering at the idea that Laurie was left for dead. When she came in with a suspicious lack of blood, the rest were informed she was given the hatch. 

Michael made a mental note to thank Rin later for her mercy. 

It took a while for things to calm down- especially since there was a controversy over Michael's lack of a hooking- but when it did it was far too easy to follow Quentin's nervous smile into the darkness of the woods. Michael was certain the quiet noises were even cuter when Quentin was desperately trying to silence them.

It was certainly better to watch Quentin fall asleep in his arms when he knew that _his_ survivor would be there when they awoke. 

* * *

The second trial went even better, with Anna's lullabye echoing through Dwight's, Adam's, Nea's, and his ears. 

Michael saught her out without hesitation, grinning widely as she sheathed her axe in favor of dragging him to the main house to be coddled. Apperently Rin had told the usual group- aka everyone but Freddy and Kenneth- that Michael had been spotted, maskless, in a trial. 

Judging from the excited Russian gibberish on American ears and the pointing at his necklace, Rin had also talked about Quentin. 

When Nea discovered them one gen in, with Anna on the stairs with Michael leaning back against her chest, she had been 'invited' to the cuddle pile. Which meant she had shamelessly crawled onto Michael's outstretched legs, settling her head on Anna's rather plump breast with an absolutely pleased grin. 

Anna was utterly  _estatic_ , and Michael was convinced that Nea didn't know what she had just submitted herself to in later trials. 

Dwight and Adam were far too amused to discover why they had just piggybacked an entire team when the doors were finally opened. 

Anna was far too happy to escort them to the gates with one final 'hug'- also known as backbreaking squeeze- to Michael. He stopped along the way to search a chest, pulling out a strip of fabric that could be useful in cleaning the generators. The flashlight that remained within was promptly stolen by Nea. 

For "personal" reasons. 

Michael scoffed.

When he turned around, Nea was grinning and holding her arms open for a hug of her own, now that Anna wasnt occupied. Anna, ever gracious with her hugs, immediately enveloped the swede- who was obviously enjoying the act of burying her face into Anna's chest.

The campfire was hysterical as Nea spent the downtime to her next match delightfully dazed and clutching her new flashlight.

* * *

A match that wasn't so fun was the first with Kenneth. Tapp, Meg,  _and_ Laurie were with him in the meat plant. 

He started out the same way he began his first trial- he found the first gen and began working on it. He had it done before he saw or heard anyone else, slinking into the shadows- or lack thereof- to find another. 

When Laurie screamed with her first slash, Michael found himself wishing he knew where she was. When he heard a very familiar bottle break, he abandoned his gen. 

He only found her when she was downed. 

He made a beeline straight for her. 

She was saved before he got there, and immediately downed once more. Michael could feel that familiar rage beginning to fill him. 

 _Nobody_ did that to his sister, even _if_ they didn't get along. Michael's boots hit the stairs as she was hooked again. 

Kenneth didn't know what hit him until Michael turned him around to grip his disgustingly slick face and introduce it to the wall. Meg saved Laurie from the hook, and the two girls promptly made for the stairs. 

The Clown slid down the wall, but turned his eyes to Michael's outwardly calm features with surprise. His face distorted to anger and sick pleasure. " _Well_ , If it isn't _Audrey_." 

He had to pause after that one sentence to talk, but Michael just continued to stare with a look of annoyed boredom. "Ain't that a pretty face too. I'm gonna enjoy watchin' it wrinkle up with pain from a hook."

The floored man suddenly lunged, but took a swift boot to the nose. Michael looked on with disgust as blood splattered onto his shoes. 

When the clown managed to get himself upright, he gave Michael an angry look. "I hope the Entity _chews you up_ for this. You're already bein' punished for fuckin' up Freddy's head, and I can't _wait_ to see what it does when you interrupt its meals." When Michael reached for his collar to lift him, Kenneth laughed before coughing up blood. "I don't care if yer it's favorite, _Audrey_ \- it only likes yeh because you killed your big sis for it. By the time this is all over,  _I'm_ gonna be it's favorite! And I'll watch you suff-!"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, as Michael took to beating that grease-speared face into a pulp against the wall. 

When the fat lump finally stopped moving, Michael turned to walk away, wiping the blood that had gotten on his hands on the rag he had found in a chest the last trial. He looked up to see his three teammates staring with horrified faces. 

Laurie was the first one to speak, her voice as shaky as her will to stand in that spot. "You... killed Judith for the Entity?" Michael nodded once, tilting his head as Tapp looked more and more horrified each second. "Good god man, how old _were_ you when you first saw the Entity? You were only six when you killed Judith!" 

Michael held up three fingers and the other survivors went pale. 

Their match ended seconds later with darkness falling over them all. 

The fire was far less jovial this time. Sensing the tenseness, Michael politely stepped into the woods rather soon after arriving. He could hear Quentin rising behind him, and hear the hushed whispers that begged him to linger. He could also hear Quentin's heavy sigh as he complied. 

Michael paid it no mind as he went to their spot to sit. Quentin didn't join him for some time. 

When he did, Quentin kissed Michael like Judith kissed her boyfriend the night she died. He could suddenly see the appeal. 

When they finally broke for air, Quentin's smile was blinding. "Sooo. You're in here because _you_  ~" Devious fingers tugged at the collar of his shirt. "-fucked up _Freddy's_ face." Quentin got a very smug nod as agreement.

"I'm  _almost_ sad at you Michael! You dunked that fish stick and  _didn't tell me?_ _"_ Quentin ducked down for another kiss, and it was equally breathtaking... and _far_ more handsy. Michael smirked as Quentin braced his forearms on either side of Michael's head, uncaring about the rough bark of the tree he was leant against. "What did you do?" 

It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

Quentin _needed_ to know on a level that had Michael's blood rushing south.

He could feel Quentin's pulse quicken as Michael gripped his head softly. He squeezed just hard enough to get the message across. 

Quentin whined breathlessly before lunging forward to crush their lips together again. 


	10. Hot Ramen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spelling might be off on this chapter. Its 3 am and im tired and fuck i love susie.

The 'Mornings' had always been slow and groggy for Michael. Even in the Asylum, his morning schedule was mostly just his medications and waiting for his appointment for Loomis to talk at him. In the Entity's realm, those lazy mornings didn't change- he just spent it laying in his bed until he felt like getting up for a trial. No pills. No nagging him to speak. Just the softness under his back, a warm blanket cocooning him, and the lack of desire to leave his bed. 

Changing to survivor camp didn't effect this schedule, but simply gave him even more reason to lounge about in the form of a fluffy head of tangled brown hair and hands trailing over his shoulders as a quiet "Good morning~" was whispered into his right ear. With his hands firmly gripping Quentin's hips, Michael rolled to the side to pull the smaller onto his chest. It took no effort to allow his eyes to close as his head flopped to the side, giving his survivor plenty of room to kiss up and down his throat. 

Michael took the opportunity to run his fingers through messy hair, trying his best to detangle it as Quentin pushed himself up to his elbows, plopping his head onto his palms. Locked ankles lazily swished through the air as a content smile plastered itself over Quentin's face. "You're awfully cute when you're sleeping."

Michael grinned as he rolled his eyes. Turning his head the other way simply to make it more difficult for Quentin to look at him. His eyes fell to the treeline, and he visibly jumped when he saw Laurie staring at them from about a hundred feet back.

Quentin's eyes followed Michael's, prompting him to squeak and immediately roll off of the former killer. "U-uh... Hi Laurie. What's up?" 

She stared for another long moment before turning on her heel and walking back to the fire. Quentin and Michael shared a look before shrugging.

The casual affection was traded for Quentin's chatter, and Michael grinned as he twirled a piece of charcoal in his fingers. One of Quentin's recent trials in the Doctor's domain had yielded some notebooks, barren of actual words and mostly just a cheap recreation of Herman's memories. 

They had been quickly scavenged, giving Michael ample material to communicate with without words. 

Once more on the topic of food, Michael watched Quentin ramble on about some cake he had eaten at the diner once. "It was so good man. It was super soft and warm, but Nancy swore it had been done an hour ago! I still think she was lying to me and took it right out of the pan. Either way, it was a great three am snack." 

Michael's eyes lit up with remembrance, and he quickly wrote out his question in a rather nice cursive. 

_Susie keeps calling me a snack. What does that mean?_

Quentin immediately put a hand to his chest, giving Michael an amused, yet somehow upset look. "It means she finds you attractive Michael. A tasty treat. You know, cause you look like you could satisfy a craving or two." Michael's cheeks flushed lightly as Quentin kissed between his shoulder blades. "Which one is Susie? I think she needs told that you're taken. If she's using Feng talk, she'll probably back off of you if she finds out you're taken, or she'll have to fight me for you."

_Legion with pink hair. I mostly just let her hang on my arm, she never got too annoying or too touchy. It was easy to ignore._

Quentin nodded worming his way under Michael's arm as the larger sighed dramatically.

Quentin was easily forgiven, as he went limp for his lover in return for kisses up and down the back of his head and throat. When Michael's weight shifted to straddle his waist in the name of kissing down his shoulder blades, Quentin tilted his head to glance back at his lover. "Don't get too excited. I could be chosen for today's trial, then you'll be left with blue balls." 

Quentin could  _feel_ the head tilt in his very soul. " _Horny_ Michael. If I get pulled into today's trial, I won't be able to fuck until I get back." His concern was blatantly ignored in favor of rolling the survivor onto his back to kiss at his throat. Quentin just laughed and slipped his arms around Michael's neck. "Wow, just ignore my warning then. I'm telling you though, I'm due for a trial. I wasn't in the last two days- and I'm gonna _laugh_ if I get the Legion." 

The affection peppered over his chest lasted clear until Quentin was stolen away by the fog, laughing at Michael's utterly annoyed face. 

When Quentin opened his eyes, he was on the new map. Grinning down at his nice quilted shirt, he chuckled to himself as he ducked behind some snow. His mind went to his running joke with Claudette-she blended in with every other map. This map and MacMillian was  _his_ time to shine...or rather, immerse on a level that had Nea beaming with pride.

Noting Tapp to his left, they nodded to each other and immediately got on the nearby gen together. Using the noise of the gen to cover their voices, Tapp pulled his hands away and motioned for him to move closer. Curious, Quentin quickly complied due to the look on the elder's face. "Quentin, I'm worried for you." 

The younger tilted his head, but remained quiet. "I didn't want to mention it in front of everyone, but when the Clown was killed by Michael, he-" Tapp had to take a shuddering breath. "- he didn't just stab Freddy. He did something to his head, and judging from how he beat the Clown's face to mush against the wall, I'm going to guess it wasn't pretty. It would be so easy for him to do that to _you_ Quentin, and if you get much deeper into this it'll be so hard for you to leave if you need to. I'm _begging_ you to think of your own future safety Quentin." 

His eyes held nothing but compassion, which had a smile crossing Quentin's face. "I appreciate that you're worried about me, but I'm not leaving him. I don't really care if he hurts me- and  _yes_ I know that's way too fucked up- but I  _know_ that he wouldn't do it outside of a trial. Even if we escaped the Entity, I don't think he would ever hurt me if he knew I would have to _actually_ recover after. Others? Absolutely- but not me."

Tapp's inevitable frown preceded his mouth opening, but the heartbeat suddenly pounding in their ears had them freezing as a moan of breathless lungs sounded on the other side of the gen. Pink hair flowed from under a dark hood, and she threateningly raised her broken Ruler as she was about to strike the crouching survivors. 

"Oh, hey! You're Susie!" The ruler hesitated as her head turned to the side, eyeing Quentin. "Uhhh... Yeah, I am. Whhyyy?" 

"Well, The most important thing is I heard you were hanging all over my man."

Tapp took one between the obviously surprised killer and the survivor with pursed lips and crossed arms. 

"Uhhh... Joey is kinda dating me, so I don't know who you're talking about. I haven't fucked anyone outside our group yet."

Quentin tilted his head slightly as his frown grew. "So you  _weren't_ hanging on Michael and calling him a snack?"

Tapp immediately stood and walked off with raised hands, quietly chanting 'nope' to himself as Susie dropped her ruler in surprise. 

"Oh fuck, you're dating Mr. Tasty Treat?! Holy fuck!" 

Quentin barely managed to repress his instinctual laugh. "Yeah. In a weird way, I have been since I came to the Entity's realm." 

Susie nodded, immediately holding her hands up. "I'm sorry broski, I didn't know he was taken. He never really objected to a little harmless flirting- I never slept with him though. I asked Joey if I could try for it, but he said no, and I ain't no cheerleader thottie." 

Quentin nodded knowingly. "I figured you didn't know we were together, but I knew I had to talk to you next time I saw you- And Michael  _literally_ just told me about it this morning. I swear he's gonna laugh when he founds out I called that I was gonna get Legion for the next trial."

Susie snorted a laugh nodding with a casual bob in her shoulders. "Fuckin' nice man. Wanna hang out and talk? Clear the air and all'a that?" Quentin nodded as a grin took over his lips. "Sure. Even with my beef with some survivors, I actually hate being in conflict." 

"Fuckin' A! Come on Broskatcha, let's get out of the cold. Fuck Canada man, it could freeze fresh piss." 

It was a short walk inside, but they passed the time by introducing themselves properly as they sat beside the little fire that burned in the middle of the building. To be polite, Susie took off her mask to have a face-to-face conversation as Quentin started with his question.

"So you're with Joey? Which one is that?" 

"The dude with the black mask. Frank's the other guy with the white mask, and he's with Julie. She always steals his coats and shit, so they should look pretty alike most days. Either way, we swing partners, so you'll see us all pretty friendly with each other." Quentin laughed at the idea of killers stealing each other's clothes, but nodded his approval. "I don't blame her for jacket stealing. I'm _absolutely_ gonna try to steal Michael's jumpsuit if I can ever get my hands on it." 

Susie immediately burst into laughter, clapping her hands together in amusement. "Holy shit, I would pay good money to see his face when he catches you in it!" 

"Same though!" Quentin joined her with laughter and a wide smile. "So, how you adjusting to being a killer?" 

Susie shrugged with what seemed to be her usual dramatic flair. "It's not bad. Some of you survivors are hella thicc tho, and it makes it lowkey hard to stab them- a girl gets distracted, ya know?" 

"Kate? Blonde hair and wears cowboy boots?" 

"And that sabo-boy. Simply delicious~!"

Quentin immediately burst into laughter stamping his feet as he covered his face with his hands. " _Oh my god, I'm telling him you said that!"_

"Oh  _please_ do!" 

"Oh yeah! Besides, if he's in the mood, he might even be down to get handsy."

Susie's utterly excited face had Quentin breaking down in laughter once more, and Susie found it hard to suppress her own. 

They were soon both giggling, trying to stop with hands hidden in sleeves and buried into knees until Meg's disgusted sigh drew their attention to the door. Quentin rolled his eyes as she crossed her arms. "You gonna _do_ anything Quentin?" 

Susie bit her lower lip as her brows went up, glancing back to Quentin as she held back the last of her laughter. "Nah, I _was_ having a conversation until you rudely interrupted. How about you go step in a bear trap or something?" The animosity in his eyes grew as his sentence neared completion, and Meg's dirty look mirrored it. "Well, so much to being _useful_ _to the team_ in return for dating Michael."

Susie scoffed, unable to resist giving her input. "Reaaaally hoe? I think distracting the killer is _pretty useful._ " 

Meg immediately snapped her eyes toward the girl leveling her a flat look. "You keep your nose out of this. This is between that prick and me." 

Susie gasped, putting a hand to her chest. " _Excuuse you!_ It's that prick and  _I!_ You know what happens to bad grammar and worse attitudes?" 

Meg sneered as she crossed her arms. "They watch other survivors get all buddy-buddy with the people that murder us?"

Susie turned a sarcastic look to Quentin. "Well, she had one word right!" 

The pink haired teen was immediately on her feet, screeching 'MURDER!' at the top of her lungs as she brandished her ruler. She immediately chased after Meg's fleeing feet as Quentin doubled over with laughter once more. After a few solid minutes of silence and distant cursing, Quentin moved to work on the center gen. 

He finished it as Meg was finally hooked, sitting once more beside the fire as he watched her dangle from afar. Ace was injured trying to save her, but she died in the end. 

It only took another minute for a  _very_ pleased Susie to rejoin him, happily sitting back down and wiping the blood off the wood she called a weapon. 

"Facecamped her?" 

"Like the worthless bitch I apparently am! _Anyway!_ You ever play Fortnite?"

* * *

When Quentin eventually crossed the boundary of the trees, Meg was utterly  _livid_ as she sat beside Laurie and Tapp. "Have fun with your little _girlfriend?_ How many killers are you going to fuck Quentin?" 

Quentin sighed heavily and paused to give her an annoyed look. "As many as I please, and try doing gens instead of antagonizing Susie next time. Maybe she won't face camp you for being a bitch. Also- Jake, Kate, Susie said she would absolutely fuck you both."

Kate's embarrassed sputtering was the exact opposite of Jake's surprised look that faded to a mildly pleased smirk. Quentin just gave the group a wide grin over his shoulder as he disappeared into the trees. 

Michael was sprawled on his back when Quentin finally found him, watching the unmoving sky with equally still eyes. They only broke their gaze when Quentin sat himself on Michael's hips. "You're  _never_ gonna guess who the killer was." 

 


	11. Fresh Blood

The continuing trials only got worse between Quentin and Meg, but Laurie seemed to back off.

The blonde was more prone to shaking her head, but would actually help Quentin or Michael if she saw them on a gen. She still refused to save either, but it was easily ignored. 

Meg became more beligerent, doing everything she possibly could to get Quentin or Michael killed in a match- and usually dying herself due to most killers' penchant for the quiet couple. 

So when it was Laurie, Quentin, Meg, and Tapp in a match with Freddy, the dreamwalker was admittedly concerned. He spent the majority of the trials doing gens- even helping Tapp on a few, with his saddened gaze lingering each time they parted and rejoined.

It seemed to be a rather brutal trial, with each survivor being hooked once- except Laurie and Meg, who were booked twice on the account of sandbagging each other.Tapp had saved Quentin, but ran off before healing. Thankful for his penchant for medkits, Quentin was not left whimpering for long.

Quentin had given Freddy the slip twice since then, woken himself by failing generator skillchecks, and escaping once more by the time he finally allowed himself a breath of relief as the alarm blared through the silence. 

 _'Open the gate, go snuggle with Michael'_ was the mantra he repeated in his head as he crept carefully- but quicky- towards one of the massive gates. 

Meg spotted him quickly, immediately releasing the lever and putting her back against it. Flipping her off, he headed left to the other gate. 

To his immense surprise, Laurie sadly released her lever with a sigh when she saw him.

Quentin felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Trying to keep his voice down, he approached the blonde. "What are you _doing?!"_

Her voice was equally as quiet. "I'm sorry Quentin, but I can't just leave the behavior between you and Meg unpunished. It's getting _seriously_ out of hand."

"Then let's discuss this after the trial- it's  _Freddy,_ Laurie." Her sad smile didn't reach her eyes, and his begging tone only made her look more distant. " _I know, Quentin_."

He stared for several seconds before clenching his teeth and nodding. "Alright then. Go ahead and block the gate, I'll find the hatch."

Laurie seemed so upset in that moment, reaching out to him before Tapp stepped around the corner and caught her. Quentin's eyes met the detective's for a moment, lingering just long enough to convey his newfound distrust in the officer. 

Neither moved as he crept back into the shadows, trying to blend in with the dreary surroundings. 

Several minutes later, he was inwardly cursing them.

He could _still_ feel their presence.

Deciding it was better than nothing, Quentin ducked into the basement. 

It took several more minutes for Freddy to find him, but he didn't get the pleasure of his talons digging into Quentin's skin. He had bolted up the stairs and through the window, managing to evade the Lunge that scratched the air just behind his jacket.

Struggling to keep his eyes open as his head nodded toward his chest, Quentin stumbled and tripped his way through an impressive chase.

Sadly, it all came to an end when he tried to loop the dream master through the main Lodge. His head hit the edge of the table as he was downed in one hit, and Quentin felt his blood run cold as it dripped down his face.

_Devour Hope._

_**Freddy** was running  **Devour Hope.**_

It was then that he felt the trio finally leave.

Quentin clenched his fists as it all suddenly made sense. 

Freddy kackled above him as he twiched his blades in anticipation. "So,  _Quentin._ Did your boytoy tell you what he did to my head?"

Quentin blinked in surprise as the hatch suddenly spawned in the nearby hallway, throwing itself open with the sound of mocking salvation.

The dream master put a gloved hand to his chest in surprise. "Oh my, look at that! What are the chances! Aren't you going to crawl for it Quen?"

Quentin's dirty look was the only reply until Freddy stomped on his head. "C'mon Quen!  _Live a little!"_

"Why don't you go burn in hell?! Go ahead and kill me, I'm not giving you the satisfaction of watching me suffer!" His glare was hotter than the fires that had ended the Gardener's life.

Freddy laughed. 

He  _laughed._

"Oh, yes you are Quentin." The blade on Freddy's pointer finger carefully reopened the scar across Quentin's nose as his foot kept the fluffy mop of brown from moving. "You're going to suffer  _quite_ a lot."

Piece by piece he was cut into, sliced apart, and slit open until he was a bleeding mass on the ground. Freddy stood over his dying survivor, grinning to himself as he looked over the mess on his clothes. "Oh look, prestige three! Why thank you Quen, how kind!"

The eerily wet gasp of a breath was all Quentin had the energy to give, and Freddy grinned at the blue eyes that were quickly loosing their sheen.

Kicking Quentin onto his back, Freddy smiled as widely as he could- looking more like a comedic killer than a deranged one. A single slash had crimson pooling around Quentin's limp body, but the pain that Freddy had been looking forward to never crossed Quentin's face. His last breath was infuriatingly exhaled in the form of Michael's name.

Freddy slashed the mangled chest until the Entity pulled him away. 

* * *

Back at camp, Quentin didn't even bother going to the fire. He immediately saught out his lover's arms, curling into them to stare silently into the woods as worried hands slid through his hair. He stared blankly forward, revling in the sensation of being alive and in Michael's arms as he stewed in the anger of what had just happened.

It took him quite a while to find the voice to explain what went down, but the clenched fist Michael was left with reassured Quentin that Michael was as angry as he was. That fist pried itself apart in favor of resting on his hip, his other hand restarting the gentle strokes through his hair.

They ignored it as the survivors began calling Quentin's name, starting with Dwight and Claudette. 

A considerable amount of time later, it sounded like the entire camp was looking for him. 

It was then that Michael stood, taking Quentin's hand and leading him deeper into the woods. Quentin followed without looking back, staying close to his lover until they found a suitable spot- one where the loud calling couldn't be heard. 

Michael made sure each new scar on Quentin's body was kissed, then held him as tightly as possible until they were whisked away for a trial. 

When Michael found his survivor on the Game's lower levels before a single gen was popped, he quickly pulled him into the basement. His eyes shined with worry as he saw the pure exhaustion reflected back. Quentin quickly shook his head in denial of the silent question, slipping his arms around Michael's waist and resting his head on Michael's chest. 

Michael slid down the wall to hold him close, curled into the Corner across from the chest. That was where Amanda found them halfway through the trial, but she left them with a giggle and a thumbs up. 

They stayed in the basement until the fog forced the match to an end. Michael grinned as Quentin stole a kiss that was eerily similar to the one aboard the Pale Rose, squeezing him as they were encased and depositied at a humming fire. 

Anna was  ** _thrilled._**


	12. New Surroundings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Props and credit to SluttyMcMuffin for giving me the idea to try killer Quentin back on chapter 8! 
> 
> I just wanted him to have access to Myers dick but you know what this is cool too!

The killer campfire was _far_ better than Quentin had imagined it to be. Anna had immediately welcomed them both with wide hugs, beaming with excitement. Her adoration for the far smaller male that had joined them was expressed in broken English and rapid Russian, with the only words Quentin could really understand being 'small', 'protect', and 'cute'.

It had taken several minutes for Michael to reclaim the younger from the Russian's grasp, as the flailing survivor was apparently doomed to smother in the woman's ample chest.

However, it took no time at all for _all_ of the girls to gather around to coo at him and Michael, eventually turning Quentin's face such a deep shade of red that he decided it was best to simply hide it in Michael's shoulder. 

This led to Phillip's excited mothering- commonly recognized as wandering over to try to fix both Quentin's and Michael's hair with a wooden comb. His was simply detangled, and Michael's was neatly pulled back and tied with a piece of twine-and good  _lord_ Quentin was going to have a problem with the public eye and Michael with that hairstyle. 

The excited grooming continued with soft growls that only had Quentin concerned for a few minutes, as the others around him didn't act as if this was a precursor to violence.

Quentin swore the Wraith was _two seconds_  from spontaneous combustion when he was finally coaxed into a sitting position beside the Trapper, who offered no fuss when his hand became the victim of Phillip's obvious need to pamper. Instead, he chose to address the group. 

"Alright everyone, settle down, I know it's exciting. I'm gonna say it in advance so it's perfectly clear- if anyone sees Freddy or Kenneth fucking with Quentin, tell me or Michael. We'll handle it." As he spoke, he made motions for those who lacked the capacity to understand English. Gesturing to the group, he mimicked Freddy's slash and Kenneth's bottles before pointing to Quentin, waiting a moment before pointing to his lips, then to Michael and himself. It took a few seconds, but eventually the ones that did not speak English as their native tongue nodded their understanding. 

Anna was quick to brandish a hatchet but was rapidly pacified by the Wraith, who explained it slower with motions Quentin couldn't see very well from his position. It didn't matter too much anyway, as Michael turned his head with a single digit in order to claim his lips. 

Naturally, the camp dissolved into coos and not-so-mild adoration for the couple. It certainly didn't help when Quentin was protectively pulled to sit on Michael's lap.  

After another few moments, Max decided he wanted a story. Rin quickly offered up her own Charades version of her most recent trial. Apparently she had done well, sacrificing three and mori'ing her fourth. The group praised her for a good run, and Anna was bobbing happily as Amanda retold her latest- Nea and David had been the pair upstairs as Michael and Quentin cuddled in the basement, with David dying to his reverse bear-trap and Nea suffering the hook. 

Quentin grinned as he decided to go next, trying his best to mime it out for those that didn't understand. By the end of his own trial story, The Trapper was feeling more than slightly stupid. "So you're telling me I constantly lose that young dark-skinned girl because she just  _crouches in the fuckin bush?!"_

Quentin laughed, hiding his smile behind his folded hands. "Yeah, Claudette is quite the ninja when she wants to be. I know Jake- the sabo boy- makes sound effects when he sees her do it." 

The entire group burst into laughter as Evan lowered his face into his palms with a heavy groan. "If you'd like, I can show you sometime- Even though I'm a glorified light bulb compared to Claudette." 

Michael's hand through his hair was meant to be a reassuring gesture, but Quentin nuzzled into the palm affectionately anyway as Evan nodded. "I think I would like that. It would certainly be fun to see her face when I start finding her, and we can do it when Michael's in his next trial- that way you're not all alone with those two creeps lurking about." 

It took a few minutes to explain to a confused Rin and Anna, but they were soon pointing to themselves with understandable excitement. "Sure, I can show you guys too!" Quentin beamed a smile with a thumbs up, and Rin immediately began clapping excitedly before giving him a short bow. 

The fire seemed to settle in time with the killers as more stories were told. Quentin explained the getaways whenever he could, laughing at the absolute misery of Evan and his dwindling pride. 

Max seemed to take it the best, as he didn't really seem to understand the gravity of the trials. It made more sense when Evan pointedly clarified for Quentin, telling the chainsaw-wielding sprinter "Of course they find it fun to lose us all Maxie! It ruins the game if they don't try to hide the whole time!" Quentin immediately agreed, smiling back at the bright smile turned towards him. "That's right! Hide and Seek isn't fun if we don't hide and try to win!"

Evan's nod of approval when Max turned to Bubba warmed Quentin's heart in a weirdly familial way. 

* * *

 

Even with the obvious comfort of those around the fire, Michael quickly began to long for his alone time with Quentin. It only took a few trials for him to finally scoop Quentin into his arms, nodding to the others as he turned towards Haddonfield. He gracefully ignored Evan's jab to 'treat him right back there!', even if Quentin squeaked his embarrassment and hid in Michael's shirt.

They quickly found a rhythm in the trial cycles. Quentin would spend most of his time lounging about Michael's house- gratefully enjoying the hot shower and ability to  _wash his fucking clothes Jesus Christ-_ and spending even more quality time with his lover. When they weren't occupied with each other's bodies, they were wandering around Haddonfield as Quentin showed other killers the most popular juking spots, laying out on the awning to watch unmoving stars, and setting up a system of hiding spots in case Quentin was cornered when left alone during trials. 

Truth be told, he was simply overjoyed that he was finally given the gift of coming home to  _his_ survivor giggling as he flipped through a messy sketchbook, or playfully trying to frighten him from around a corner with an oversized mask that was stained with blood. Michael still didn't know how Quentin managed to find it in the attic.

If anyone bothered to ask Michael, it was pure paradise.

With Quentin, he had eventually lost count of how many trials he had been here for- but couldn't find it in himself to care as he was gracefully escorted to the Legion's turf for what they had begun calling 'Bloodlust and Chill'. Susie screamed on sight- as she always did- as she bounded forward to glomp him in the fangirliest fashion Quentin could think of. 

He didn't even mind being knocked to the snow as Frank came around the corner to greet them. Julie came out to rest her head on Frank's shoulder as Quentin pulled up Michael's mask for his good luck kiss... not that he ever needed it. Michael left him with his peers in the name of slaughtering his former friends.

The Legion was tied for his favorite killer to hang out with- the sheer energy of being around people his age, even if they were from eight years in the future, certainly gave him back that last little bit of high school he was robbed of by the Entity. He was certain they enjoyed it too, as his so-close-yet-so-far knowledge gave them ample room to tease and rhile. 

His personal favorite was when they led him on for an _entire_ trial, talking about all the horrible side effects of Frank's fatal diagnosis of Ligma. 

Susie _still_  liked to remind him of how contagious it was. Usually before, during, and after trying to teach him various Fortnite dances and related memes. 

Quentin was rather proud of his ability to throw cheese at Frank's face.

As nice as they all were, Evan and Phillip were still a power couple with a family aesthetic that had Quentin feeling safe without Michael's constant presence. They were also the ones most likely to give him updates on particular survivors, and pass messages along to them without requiring anything in return. 

Quentin felt much better after learning of Claudette's turmoil over his disappearance, turning over his beanie to Phillip to be gifted to her. 

The Wraith returned with the knowledge that she was thankful that he was safe and sound, and had undoubtedly spread the information to those who actually cared for his well being. 

An untold number of trials later- Quentin looked and acted like a completely different person. The bags under his eyes were gone, and he seemed to glow with a healthy peach instead of the undead pale of poor circulation. He was far more energetic- which Michael  _gleefully_ reaped the benefits from- and far more likely to run ahead to initiate a round of hide and seek with Maxie. Evan and Phillip were  _more_ than grateful for an impromptu babysitter for the two chainsaw wielders.

Hell, even his  _hair_ seemed more vibrant, with far more gloss and bounce than Michael ever remembered. Evan had promptly teased him about his unfettered staring, elbowing him and asking if he was falling in love all over again. 

The girls at the fire- and Phillip- physically couldn't contain themselves when Michael immediately nodded in agreement. Even _Evan_ was grinning widely at the blatantly lovestruck confession as he clapped him on the shoulder. 

Things were good.

Which is _probably_ why they didn't discover the desk until Quentin had escaped a rather steamy kiss after hiding in the kitchen. He had been laughing as he fled upstairs to try to loop Michael through their home. He had passed Michael's room and ducked into the adjacent one behind it, running to the end before realizing there was a sealed wall blocking his escape. 

In his defense, they never really came into this room often.

The lighthearted air disappeared when Quentin processed Michael's utterly confused face. 

He had quickly retreated to his lover's side at the look, but curiosity enveloped them with a grasp too firm to break.

A quick search of the desk had the blood back to its proper place in both males.

The main drawer had the blade to an old paper cutter- one that was far too familiar to Quentin. The tag tied to the handle had the same strange language as the survivors' perks, and translated itself as all text in this world did. The tag read  _"A rusty blade, abandoned like the memories it once helped to create"._

Beside the blade was a notecard. 

 

 _" **POWER: Imposed Insomnia**_

_As the trial goes on, the effects of sleepless nights begin to_ _play with the Survivors' minds._

_No generators complete: Survivors have 5% increased chance for skill checks._

_One generator complete: The chance to encounter a skill check increases to 10%, survivors suffer from exhaustion for 10 seconds._

_Two generators complete: Survivors suffer from exhaustion for 15 seconds._

_Three generators complete: Chances to encounter skill check increases to 20%._

_Four generators complete: Survivors have a 20% chance to hallucinate skill checks. Hitting a 'good' on these skill checks will regress the Generator 3%, hitting a 'great' will regress the Generator 10%. Survivors have a 10% chance to hallucinate the terror_ _radius for up to 10 seconds every thirty seconds._

_Five generators complete: Exhaustion is active for 30 seconds, and the survivors will hallucinate that a random team member has been hooked on a random hook on the map. This persists until any survivor reaches the spot the hallucination has marked. Survivors have a 30% chance to hallucinate the terror radius for up to 20 seconds._

 

Judging from his face, Michael was impressed. Quentin nodded through his surprise. "I could see where this would get _hella_ annoying- especially if you're hallucinating skill checks when a gen is almost done."

Unable to resist the temptation, they searched the drawers next.

The four drawers down the right side of the desk had various items, with little tags attached to them. The language on the tags was the same as the blade and the notecard.

 

The top drawer held three brown-tagged trinkets. The first was a ring with a glittering sapphire stone. Quentin felt his heart clench as he remembered choosing it in the graduation catalog with his father. 

_" **Class Ring:** A gemstone that was never worn. Increases chances to encounter skill checks by 3%."_

The second item was a pair of broken swimming goggles.

_" **Broken Goggles:** The cold water helps you to focus if used in controlled measures. Hallucinations chances increase by 5%."_

The third item was a familiar alarm clock, but it had no power left on the battery.

 **_"Useless Alarms:_ ** _They only work when you set them while awake. Cooperative Actions have a 5% higher chance for skill checks."_

 

The second drawer held six items, all with yellow tags. The first was a crumpled, rolled tube of cyan paint.

_" **Empty Paint Tube:** You never really were good at art. Skill check encounters increase by 7%. Stacks."_

The second was a single blue pill, with an unreadable emblem on one side.

" _ **The Last** **Pill:** The last piece of necessary medication before a refill is required. Chances of Hallucinations increase by 10%. Stacks."_

The third was a set of car keys that had many different memories flashing through Quentin's mind. 

" _ **Father's Car**_ ** _Keys:_** _He promised you a set of your own one day, but never got around to giving it to you. Movement speed while chasing a hallucinating survivor is increased by 5%."_

A chipped coffee cup laid beside the keys.

" _ **Favorite Coffee** **Cup:** A cozy diner is the best place to gather your mind. Injured survivors in your terror radius experience 5% more skill checks. Stacks. "_

Stuffed in the back corner was a piece of bloodied cloth. 

_" **Dirty Cloth:** Torn from a bedsheet in a desperate attempt to preserve one's legal innocence. Injured survivors outside of your terror radius experience 5% more skill checks. Stacks."_

A handheld flashlight was the final item in this drawer 

" _ **Handheld Flashlight:** Used in the darkest of spots to ensure your eyes aren't playing tricks on you. Hallucinations cause exhaustion for 5 seconds."_

 

The third drawer had the green-tagged items, with five of them resting inside.

The first item was a slip of receipt paper with the cost of a steak dinner and coffee rang in. The cashier's name is smudged with spilled blood.

 _"_ ** _The Last Meal:_ ** _A simple reminder of how it all started. Chances of Hallucinations increase by 10%._

The next item was a chunky library book, with numerous names scribbled on the ''check out/check in" card.

_" **Library Book:** Studying can be difficult for even the strongest of students. Chances of encountering skill checks increase by 10% inside your terror radius._

The next item had Quentin _so very_ excited until he realized the battery was dead.

" _ **Dead Cell Phone:**_ _What was once a lifeline is now useless. Survivors who begin performing cooperative actions face one extremely difficult skill check. If it is hit, the action continues as normal. Missing the skill check gives an auditory and visual notification."_

The next item Quentin knew like the back of his hand.

" ** _Grey Beanie:_** _The sting of betrayal drives you forward. Survivors that successfully escape a chase experience a hallucination of the terror radius for 10 seconds."_

The last was a roll of bloody bandages, exactly like the ones Quentin would often find in medkits.

_" **Dirty Bandages:**  They will have to learn the lessons you did. Self-healing survivors experience 15% more skill checks._

 

The fourth drawer held the four purple-tagged items and the two red-tagged items. 

The first purple item was a photograph, but what should have been an image was simply black. Quentin looked it over for a moment before dropping it as if it had burnt him.

" _ **Blacked Out Photo:** You finally remembered what happened. Survivors experience 30% more hallucinations throughout the entire trial."_

The second purple item was a bloodied bottle of green Colgate mouthwash.

" _ **Blo**_ _ **ody mouthwash:** The dangers of micro-naps are just as real as your dreams. Cooperative Actions prompt only extremely difficult skill checks."_

The third purple item was a needle, sealed in a box that's label held only distorted text.

 _"_ **_Adrenaline Needle:_ ** _Desperate Times call for Desperate Measures. Survivors injured after the exit gates are powered do not reveal auras to other survivors."_

The last purple item had Quentin grinning as he lifted a poor recreation of the necklace around Michael's throat.

_" **Religious Necklace:** A simple metal token depicting a saint believed to protect lost souls. Survivors downed after the exit gates are powered cannot see the auras of other survivors."_

 

 The two items that remained in the drawer left Quentin with mixed emotions. The first was a red version of the Cypress Mori he was certain he would find in his blood web. It was broken cleanly in half, but secured together by strings of glistening solid blood.

" ** _Broken Cypress Mori:_** _A fated meeting that prompted a whirlwind romance. Grants the ability to kill the obsession by your hand. The obsession must be hooked at least once to be killed unless they are the last survivor left in the trial._

Michael's shoulders shook with barely contained laughter as lips pressed to Quentin's neck. His head lulled to the side to give Michael room as he lifted the last item. It was a brown wooden nameplate, similar to what you would find on a teacher's desk. The name was worn out to the point of illegibility.

" _ **Councelor's Name**_ _ **Plate:** A memento of an impulsive argument. Survivors who rescue hooked survivors in your terror radius experience the exposed status for 30 seconds. Stacks." _

 

Quentin gently laid his head back against Michael's shoulder, stroking over the wooden plaque with his thumb. "I wonder if my dad would have liked you... well, minus the murder part of course. I doubt he would have liked me being with a murderer." Michael shrugged his shoulders, tracing over the worn wood with his pointer finger. "I suppose it doesn't matter too much, does it?" Michael shook his head as he squeezed Quentin's waist a little tighter. 

Unable to resist his curiosity, Quentin lifted the sharpened blade to test its weight in his palm. Michael's grin grew as the light reflected off the blade and onto the natural paleness of Quentin's cheek. Turning it in his grasp, Quentin unashamedly admired the stunningly sharp blade. "I could _probably_ cut someone's head off with this if I could swing it hard enough." 

Michael gave him a half shrug before squeezing Quentin's biceps in an obvious question. Quentin immediately plumped out his lower lip in a pout, pushing his elbow into Michael's side. The heavy groan that followed warned Quentin of the slight doubling over of Michael's frame, but drew Michael's attention to the small tokens in the bottom of the blade's drawer, resting beside a pure white mask with black fracture marks across the face. Michael picked up the tokens, drawing Quentin's gaze as he looked them over. 

 

The first had the image of an empty pill bottle laying amongst the scattered remains of a medkit.                                                                                                            
" ** _Out of Refills:_** _A doctor's reluctance made you monitor your resources. Chests take 15/25/40% more time to search. You get a noise notification when a survivor begins searching a chest."_

The second had an image of a group of people, all facing away from the viewer.

 _" **Returning the Favor**_ _**:** You spent all your time watching over others, and no one bothered to return the favor. Cooperative Actions have a 5/10/15% regression rate for missed skill checks. Auras of survivors who have missed a skill check are revealed to you for 5/10/15 seconds."_

The third had a simple outline of closed eyes.

 _" **Hex:**_ _**Final Rest:** After too much time has passed without proper sleep, the brain will begin to shut itself down_ _. For each hook, an individual survivor's ability to read auras shrinks by 10/20/30%."_

 

Michael nodded his approval over Quentin's shoulder. Quentin hummed as he looked through all of the items once more before whistling a low tone. "I could  _really_ fuck someone over with these." Michael grinned as he tilted his head to kiss Quentin's cheek. Quentin tilted his head to claim a kiss before considering his options, then lifting the mouthwash and the broken cypress mori from their respective spots. 

Placing them on the table beside  _his_ blade, Quentin pulled the mask from the drawer. 

It was a perfect fit, and Quentin knew from the grin on Michael's face that he would  _absolutely_ have to show the Legion his newest gift. Perhaps he could convince them to practice with him before his first trial?

His hand rose to remove his mask, but surprisingly Michael stopped him with a gentle grip on his wrist. The confused head tilt was the only cue to his confusion before Michael promptly swept Quentin's legs with his arms, carrying the now flustered male to their room with a grin. The affectionate kisses that peppered his skin quickly gave way to Michael's teeth, and for once Quentin couldn't find a reason to stop him. By the time they were tired and curled together with his mask finally cast aside on the end table, Quentin had quite the assortment of bruises over his chest and throat.

Quentin beamed with pride at the one he had managed to give Michael at that moment, knowing full well it would show _just_ under the collar of his mask.

That night, he laughed as he realized that the Entity had allowed him to keep his hard-earned bloodpoints.

The next morning, they had gone to show off Quentin's new toys. He immediately was graced with what was now affectionately called 'killer practice' which lasted for many of Michael's following trials. 

His favorite practices were when Michael chose to be his 'survivor'-  his 'mori' for Michael was _always_ a special one. 

After fifteen of Michael's own trials, Quentin finally felt ready.

That night, he threw the bottle of mouthwash and the broken mori into the killer's campfire, laughing as Susie immediately dunked a bowl of pudding on his head as those around him cheered. 

* * *

When Quentin opened his eyes, he expected to see Michael's chest rising and falling in the cool Haddonfield air.

Instead, he saw Evan's coal tower looming just before his eyes. 

Smiling widely as he reached up to touch his face, he had to bite his own lip to keep himself from laughing. 

He immediately began to move, taking in the world around him through a different set of eyes. 

Passing by one of the more reflective pieces of metal, he paused to take in his appearance. He admired the black autumn jacket and dark blue tee he now sported, grinning as he saw an expanded version of the cracks on his mask stretching down both items of fabric- the only difference being the 'cracks' on his clothing were white. Looking at his hands, he could see the same pattern colored onto the back of his palms and down his fingers, gleaming a black that played against his pale skin. He greatly appreciated the straight black beanie that secured his mask and his hair, as any splashback from injured survivors wouldn't mat his curls up as it dried. 

He gripped the paper cutter in his hand as he began moving once more, looking down at the black jeans with the continued white pattern that tucked neatly into black and white high-tops similar to what he has worn the whole time.

Looking over the land he could see the generators spread out around him, his Hex totem in the distance- away from almost all the generators, may he add- and the bright orange flame that signified someone botching a gen. Quentin couldn't help but grin as he thought of his perks. 

He twirled his blade in his hand and began his hunt.

* * *

 

Dwight, on the other hand, had never been more confused in his _life_. He  _knew_ he hadn't brought in a new part, so why had he gotten those hard skill checks? Ace seemed equally confused, as his own skill checks hadn't been difficult- right up until he got difficult one, blowing the gen right in their faces. He coughed as the smoke filled his lungs, and he let go of the gen to wave it away.

Dwight was even more confused when he got a regular skill check at that same moment. Ace shrugged at him, turning back to work before muttering that he got another difficult skill check moments later. When Dwight looked over to comment, his words died in his throat. The tip of a blade was peeking out from behind a nearby tree, and Dwight quickly pulled Ace off the gen to flee. 

Looking back over their shoulders, they were confused when they saw no one chasing them. A glance between them had a silent agreement to abandon the gen for now, as they muttered 'Myers' to each other with a knowing look. 

Quentin barely managed to keep his laughter quiet as he pressed his back against a nearby tree, biting down on his lip as he crept away. He glanced back occasionally, watching the red outline of Dwight and Ace as they began work on a different gen on the other side of the wall. 

Although he was tempted to chase, he let them work. He wanted to see his ability play out. 

He  _did_ , however, kick the abandoned gen.

A short distance away, a noise notification came from his basement in the killer shack. Quentin's head whipped around as he immediately moved, making it down the stairs in time to hear Meg's frustrated grumbling as the gen Dwight and Ace had begun to work on finally popped in the distance. A few precise steps and Quentin  _almost_ broke into a laugh.

His obsession for the trial had her back to him, rooting around in a chest she had _no_ _business_ rooting around in, if anyone bothered to ask Quentin. A quick slash corrected that, and Meg's startled cursing began as she realized she was still under exhaustion and couldn't use her sprint burst.

She wheeled around on her assailant, watching in horror as Quentin gave the paper cutter a solid tap against the ground to shake off the excess blood. 

Quentin shifted his weight as he smirked, tilting his head in a strangely familiar manner.

He was  _living_ for her look of confusion and horror as he brought the paper cutter down again.

It felt better than it should to drop her on the hook, knowing exactly how badly it hurt. 

He couldn't deny the bounce in his step as he disappeared back up the stairs. 

Another gen popped in the distance. 

Quentin found Jake lurking near that one, and quickly downed him as well. He was hooked and left hanging as Meg was saved. 

When he saw Ace next, he looked noticeably worried. Quentin grinned. 

He was pulled off his gen like it was his first trial, and Quentin was lighter on his feet than the time when he had jumped off the roof onto Michael's back when he wasn't looking. 

He kicked the gen right in front of Ace's face, dragging his hand across the top in a playfully flirtatious way. His head snapped towards someone opening a chest near the water tower, and Ace swore as his footsteps faded. 

Dwight was the one on his chest, and the first to smack Quentin in the face with a pallet. Quentin almost giggled at how little effort he had to put into breaking the pallets, as even the smallest tap of his foot had the Entity's attention on it.

Once for attention, twice for results.

Dwight was quickly hooked as he didn't quite have the speed to vault through a window, and was pulled off the ledge. 

The third gen popped after Ace was saved, and Quentin was outright giddy. 

The cursing and explosions were music to his ears. Everyone but Meg earned a second hook before the fourth popped. 

Quentin would officially call the fourth gen 'the apocalypse', as all hell seemed to break loose. Blown skill checks happened so fast Quentin  _almost_ had to stop to laugh where no one would see him. Almost every explosion showed him pairs on gens, desperately trying to get them done faster as they struggled to differentiate which they should hit and which they should not. 

Ace and Jake died rather quickly after that. 

Quentin hung back, too curious to miss the opportunity to see his fifth gen's completion. Meg had foolishly left Dwight's side, finally pissed off enough at his missed skill checks to damn him to the killer. 

He could see the confusion on Dwight's face as the skill checks suddenly eased in her absence. 

When the gen lit up, his head whipped towards the killer shack with a look of panic. 

He followed the leader, allowing him to see the absence of a Meg before he was downed and hooked on that same hook. 

He saw Meg's pissed off face from the corner as she strode right up to the whimpering leader. 

She was promptly pulled off of Dwight, and dropped to the ground as Dwight began to struggle against the Entity. 

She looked at him with a fire in her eyes "Pick me up bitch, I fucking dare you! I'll show you what happens when you have to actually carry me! Not that cheap ass basement hook from earlier!"

Quentin was grinning so wide his face actually hurt. He stood there for several seconds, savoring the atmosphere around him.

His first four kill. Michael would be _so **proud** _of him!

Meg pushed herself onto her back, preparing to stand and go for Dwight. Quentin stepped forward, bracing up with both hands- just like Frank had shown him.

It took one swing for her anger to change to horror. 

It took three for her head to roll into the grass nearby. 

He thumped his blade rather roughly against his heel to free it of the weight of the excess blood, unable to contain his giggles anymore as he pressed his hand on his mask over where his mouth was, splaying out his fingers in a subconscious mirror to his scars. 

Dwight died on the hook as Quentin turned his head to watch from the corner of his eye.

He was so pale and wide-eyed that he forgot to pay attention to the Entity's claws. 

Quentin stepped backward two steps, watching the defacto leader get taken into the sky. 

The Entity was pleased with his Merciless Victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quentin is horribly op.  
> Why?  
> 1) Best boi.  
> and 2) it takes a survivor to counter a survivor.


	13. The New Killer

The killer camp was already murmuring as Quentin returned with flecks of blood on his clothes, but quickly broke into cheers as he removed his mask to bow and give his final tally. "Three kills and a Mori." 

Quentin didn't need Michael's mask off to  _feel_ his lover's smile when he was pulled into strong arms. It came off anyway in the name of stealing a kiss. Susie- being the ball of energy she was- immediately cheered for both the success and the couple's open affection, pulling a surprised Joey to his feet in order to dance away some of the energy.

Anna tilted her head in confusion, but Evan held up four fingers. She and Rin quickly joined in with applause and grins...

Then administered another face-to-chest smothering of a hug. 

While distracted by the larger woman, Julie stole Quentin's blade in order to do some admiring of her own. Frank rolled his eyes and took it, playfully testing out its swing with some b-rank movie combat moves. Evan sighed and rolled his eyes when Frank began making his own lightsaber sound effects to accompany the movements. 

By the time Max excitedly took the offer of the next trial, Quentin was fully settled in Michael's arms to enjoy kisses along his neck and monitor a hand that was repeatedly reminded of the proper placement while in the public eye- much to Evan's embarrassment. 

* * *

The survivor campfire was very different. 

Dwight and Meg sat rather close together, both far too shaken to even describe the mori for the others. The bottle of mouthwash and the odd-looking mori that laid in the campfire fire had all of them confused, and there were mutters about the lack of a new survivor. 

Bill was the one to quell that worry, as he had just arrived late- it was probably another Leatherface situation. 

It wasn't horribly comforting, and certainly not to Meg. "What kind of fucking killer has that setup? And what were those skill checks?"

Ace shrugged half-heartedly. "I don't know, but they seemed pretty happy to be in a trial. And I know for a  _fact_ they can see when we're getting into chests- they got Dwight that way. The second you opened the lid, their head turned."

Meg nodded. "The first time they got me in the basement, I was searching one. It was taking forever to find anything."

David scowled. "Fuckin' Entity can't even let'tus have our chests now?"

Dwight shook his head. "They're a killer that can mess with our heads worse than the doctor. Even I have to admit, this is the _last_ thing we could ever need... It didn't start until the later part of the trial, too." 

Ace nodded in agreement. "Yeah... or when we were workin' together. We got nothing but hard checks when co-oping." 

David rolled his shoulders. "Whellp, guess ther's one way to check an' see if its a power or an' addon." He immediately plunged his hand into the fire, gritting his teeth as he quickly swatted out the Mouthwash and the weird keychain. Beneath them was a stack of notecards, which were also forced out of range of the fire.

Claudette was immediately on him, breaking off a piece of aloe from a nearby plant and smearing it over the new wound. By the time she had wrapped it tightly, the items were cool enough to touch. The keychain was grabbed first, and the tag materialized for the survivors to read aloud. 

"Broken Cypress Mori. A fated meeting that prompted a whirlwind romance. Grants the ability to kill the obsession by your hand. The obsession must be hooked at least once to be killed unless they are the last survivor left in the trial- _jesus fucking christ it's another fuckin' tombstone kinda addon._ " The entire group groaned as Jake picked up the mouthwash. 

No tag appeared, but the description was helpfully written where the ingredients should have been. "Bloody mouthwash. The dangers of micro-naps are just as real as your dreams. Cooperative Actions prompt only extremely difficult skill checks."

The entire camp fell quiet as they stared at the bottle in Jake's hands. 

Feng Min was the first to speak. "Does anyone else think the term 'micro-naps' sounds way too familiar?"

Her comment was ignored as Meg lunged for the notecards. 

"Out of Refills. A doctor's reluctance made you monitor your resources. Chests take 15/25/40% more time to search. You get a noise notification when a survivor begins searching a chest- fucking hell!" Her head dropped to her unoccupied hand as Dwight took the remaining three from her hands. 

"Returning the Favor. You spent all your time watching over others, and no one bothered to return the favor. Cooperative Actions have a 5/10/15% regression rate for missed skill checks. Auras of survivors who have missed a skill check are revealed to you for 5/10/15 seconds." Claudette sighed heavily as Dwight continued with the next card.  Bill muttered 'legion wannabe' under his breath.

"Hex: Final Rest. After too much time has passed without proper sleep, the brain will begin to shut itself down. For each hook, an individual survivor's ability to read auras shrinks by 10/20/30%." Laurie winced, but acknowledged it with a shrug.  "So this is a killer that likes to know where people are... As Bill snidely mentioned, we'll have to treat him like the Legion. No co-opping." 

Ace plucked the final notecard out of Dwight's hands. "Well, we still dunno for sure! Let us find out, shall we? Their power is called  _Imposed In-"_

He paused for several seconds, reading through the card. "Oh shit."

Glances went around as Nea crossed her arms. "What?! Fuckin' read it!" 

Ace's voice had lost his confident edge. " _His_ power is called  _Imposed_ _Insomnia._ " Everyone tensed up as he continued. "There's a lot of blah on here, but he gets stronger as the trial goes on. No gens is 5% more skill checks, one done is another 5, and a 10-second exhaustion-" 

"That's why I couldn't sprint away! I thought I hadn't ran!"

Ace gracefully ignored the interruption. "Two gens 15-second exhausion, three ups skill odds to 20%, four gives us 20% for those damn hallucinations. Good regresses by 3, great by 10, and if we don't hallucinate skill checks we could hallucinate the terror radius. Looks like it's every thirty seconds for that. All five is a 30-sec exhaustion and a hallucination that someone's been hooked. This stays till someone scouts it out, and we have a 30% chance for hallucinatin' the terror radius."

The group was quiet as he finished, and he was once more the first to speak. "Guys, I think the Entity made Quen a killer." 

Meg immediately shook her head. "No. He wouldn't kill us. I know he wouldn't. " 

It was several seconds before Claudette's quiet voice spoke out. "I mean... If it meant I could stay with someone I loved, especially when it became a problem for other survivors... I'd probably take the offer if I were in his shoes. I could see where it would be far less stressful." 

The campfire was quiet for a long time.

"I mean... It explains why he was so giddy after c-... after mori'ing you, Meg. Of all the people here, you and Quentin had the most friction." Dwight's head hung as he seemed to shrink in on himself.

Meg's face turned pale as Adam shook his head decisively. " _No_. Quentin is _far_ too sweet of a boy to hurt anyone- and besides, if he was that mad at Meg and he  _was_ a killer, he would have tunneled the hell out of her!" 

Nea lifted the discarded keychain. "But these add-ons... and the power. They all relate to Quentin.  _Imposed Insomni_ _a_ through Freddy, a Mori-based addon that talks about a 'whirlwind romance'..." 

Meg's quiet 'oh god' was muffled by her palms as she put her head in her hands. 

Kate sighed. "I gotta admit. Claudette's right. Things were gettin' mighty tense between Quen an' the rest offus, an' if  _I_ had the chance to escape all the bickerin' and trial sabo'in, I'd take it too." 

Adam frowned. "How does his weapon fit in then? What relation could Quentin have with a paper cutter? Nothing!" 

Jeff shrugged, disturbed by far less than everyone else. "I mean, didn't he say he went after that Freddy guy with a paper cutter once?" 

Everyone turned their eyes to him. He just looked around with a raised brow. "What? Was I the only one that asked him how he got here?" 

The mix of blank and guilty looks answered him. He sighed. "He told me right before he came here, he was protecting a girl called Nancy from Freddy. She pulled him out of her dream, and Quentin tried to kill him with a blade he pulled off a paper cutter. Freddy got him though, and next thing he knew he was in a trial." 

The silence was accompanied with nods. 

"Well..." Jake's ever-absent voice had some jumping from surprise. "I honestly don't know if we'll get a new survivor- or two- or not. After all, looks like Freddy just lost his."

David Tapp frowned. "I hope he's okay, trapped over there with Freddy." 

 _That_ was the point David King rolled his eyes. "Okhei, no. Don't act'tall sorry for 'em if you _literally_ trapped 'em in a trial wit' Freddy." 

Tapp's eyes went wide.

"Yeaaah, I know alla'bout that. S amazin' what tha pig'll tell ya when she's all pissy. She said ta' tell ya all to fuck yourselves- an for those who have no clue what i'm on about, apparently Freddy was braggin' bout how  _nice_ tha three'f'ya were ta deliver 'em like that." David's glare melted the guilty three on the spot. Dwight's heartbroken look hurt  _almost_ as much as Claudette's wide eyes and trembling hands covering her mouth.

Meg snapped. "Look, I just wanted him to stop fucking around with a _killer!_ Why is that so bad?!"

"'Cause you  _litt'rally_ trapped him with the guy tha' molested 'em as a kid and tried to kill 'em as an adult because ya got petty?"

Laurie frowned. "Now that's just rud-"

Ace sighed heavily. "Aiite now  _kids._  There isn't  _anything_ we can do about it now, let's not start Quen-Part-two. I say if someone sees Quentin in a trial- preferably  _not_ Meg or Laurie- try to talk to him. See if Quen will explain himself in why he took the Entity's offer, and if we can get him back. But as a killer, treat him like Legion."

Meg immediately pushed herself to her feet, gripping herself by the elbows and disappearing into the woods.

She was fairly absent the next few trials, only stopping by to tell them she was still around. She always disappeared again soon after, and was thankfully absent when Kate, David, Nea, and Claudette were scooped into a trial. 

With Haddonfield sprawling out before them, they started a normal trial. Claudette had thrown in a shroud of binding, resulting in a short pause for smiles and ever-so-quiet pats on the back on the part of David. The four of them all began work on the nearby gen.

The tall fence hid their progress, and they finished the generator in record time. Claudette's disappointment in the lack of difficult skill checks was unspoken, but blatantly noticed by the group.

The mix of horror and excitement when the exhaustion struck them was palpable.

Claudette led the group to the street with no hesitation, standing beside the police car and scanning the horizon with her eyes. David stood close by, ready to protect her if the former survivor should try for an ambush. Kate hummed to herself as Nea wrapped her arms around her own waist, shifting from foot to foot as she looked into the windows of nearby houses. 

Somehow, the group still managed to be startled when laughter rang out from the awning of the Myers' house. 

Quentin was perched on the edge, one foot tucked under his knee while the other kicked aimlessly as it dangled. His palm disappeared under his mask, supporting his chin as his elbow dug into his crossed knee for support. "You know, it's a lot less _fun_ when you guys don't do gens."

David scoffed with a suppressed chuckle as Quentin gracefully slipped off the roof to join them in the street. "Well, the campfire's a lot less _fun_ without'cha. Do you blame us for wantin' ta check in?"

Quentin's laugh was as pure as always. "I suppose not. How  _are_ things going over there? I'm guessing my first trial caused some anxiety." 

David outright laughed. " _You mori'd Meg you little shit!"_ Quentin's hat and mask were immediately knocked off, giving David ample room for the noogie he promptly administered. Nea was the first to break her sterner look of concern, grinning like a fool as she vaulted forward to hug the taller. 

Quentin returned his hug easily as he dropped his head atop Nea's. "So, did everyone heal up okay? How's Dwight? I figured he wouldn't have struggled when Meg got downed, but... yeah." 

David shrugged. "Same as always. Everyone healed up fine, but Meg's awful shook- especially since I called her arse out fer the shit move she pulled on ya with Freddy." Quentin blinked with a surprised look that asked his question for him. "The pig tol' me."

The surprise faded into a tiny hint of shame. "That reminds me, I'm sorry I didn't come when you all started calling for me. To be honest, I was-" 

Claudette shook her head, stopping him with a trademark comforting smile. "There's no need to explain, Quentin. If I had known, I would have left you to your thoughts until you were ready to return. I was _certain_ Michael was with you anyway." Quentin gave her a shy smile and a nod. "We were taken to the killer camp after the next trial, since Amanda refused to hook us."

Kate hummed, pulling him forward just after Nea finally let Quentin go. He gratefully accepted her hug, even though it was far shorter than Nea's glorified cling. Claudette stepped up next, and the tremble in her arms prompted everyone to dogpile the kind-hearted botanist as she spoke. "Why did you decide to become a killer though?"

" ** _I_ **didn't decide it. I figured it got sick of Michael not being hooked in a trial, and since he's so... _effective_... as a killer, it let me tag along to give him some extra motivation. Eventually we found a desk with all my gear in the other room, and I was called into a trial shortly after. If I had a choice, I _would_ have stayed at the survivor camp- even with Meg's shit. She was annoying, but not enough to turn my back on everyone."

Claudette squeezed him tighter. Quentin gave her a soft smile as he ran his fingers through her hair. "I have to admit though, it's certainly an experience being on the other side. Freddy doesn't even know I'm there yet, and pretty much all I've done is sleep and hang out with Michael and the Legion." 

David snorted a laugh. "I'm  _positive_ that you _'hung out'_ with Michael. Nothin' else at allllll." 

Quentin gave him the most mischevious grin he could muster. 

Nea and Kate burst into laughter as Claudette shook her head, but Nea was the one to continue. "I'm glad you're finally getting sleep. You don't look like a meth addict anymore!" 

The laughter continued as Quentin gave a pitched 'Thank...you?' in response, but quickly dissolved into giggles himself. Seconds later, everyone but Quentin tensed up as the sky flickered to black before returning at a slightly redder shade. Quentin just sighed. "The Entity's getting pissy." 

Claudette smiled as she scooped up his mask and hat, holding them out to Quentin. "I, for one, won't hold the hook against you- as long as you don't camp." 

Quentin accepted them with a grin and bumped David with his hip. "As long as  _someone_ doesn't try to rush the hook, I won't ever camp or tunnel anyone but Meg... or Laurie, if she's being a dick. If any of you act like shits though, I'm absolutely gonna give it _right_ back. 30-second head start sound good?" 

Nea grinned as she pointed to the Myers house, telling him to 'go hide that pretty face, loverboy.' as Kate pulled Quentin's face close to press a kiss to his forehead. "Good luck catchin' me!" 

Quentin gave Claudette one last hug before turning and disappearing into the house with a grin, securing his mask and hat just before the survivors lost visual. 

The remaining four grinned at each other before disappearing into the night.

It turned out to be a rather intense trial, with each survivor gaining two hooks by the time the fifth gen  _finally_ popped. That in itself had taken quite some time with the hallucinations and Quentin's patrol, but in the end, the sirens blared as David took a second swipe to the back. His eyes turned toward the basement, where Claudette's outline suddenly appeared. 

David was confused when he couldn't see the auras of everyone else, but he was quickly deposited on a hook before he could question the killer. 

Quentin giggled to himself as he one-hit a swearing Nea, who  _immediately_ called him a bitch for running NOED. Quentin blew her a kiss as the Entity took her from the trial.

Kate, being Kate, had set out to find his totem and died fairly close to its location. Quentin allowed her to see it before she was hooked right next to it- he knew it would drive her crazy if she didn't find out.

Claudette was patiently waiting in front of the exit gate, that same soft smile on her face. Unable to resist, Quentin gestured her forward. 

She gratefully took both of his hexes down, then enjoyed the quiet walk to the hatch. A final hug served as their goodbye, with her quiet 'stay safe Quen' in his ear.

He nodded, squeezing her once more as he replied. "If you ever want updates on me, ask the trapper or the wraith- and if she's feeling particularly brave, tell Feng to hug the Huntress!" 

A nod and a beaming smile later, she was gone and Quentin was back in his lover's arms with the Entity praising his Ruthlessness.  

 


	14. New Knowledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unbeta'd as of rn, cause my head hurts and I want to sleep. I just wanted to get it up since it's been a while since the last update

It had taken some time for Freddy to catch on- but when he did, it was utterly grandiose.

Michael had been all too happy to explain the scene he had witnessed upon returning from a trial to Quentin.

Michael had decided to linger for a moment to catch the tail end of Phillip's recent trial and allow Anna to blow off some 'cuddle steam', as Phillip had informed him of excessive sulking due to the buildup.

Freddy had arrived at the campfire in a huff, immediately prompting looks amongst the others- he only came to the campfire to bitch and whine, claiming them all 'unworthy of his time' if he didn't have something that required an _audience_.

So naturally, he had bitched about his missing survivor as Phillip continued without pause. 

And he bitched.

And he  _bitched._

Quentin was truly upset that he had missed Evan smacking his cleaver right between the gardener's legs,  _nearly_ cutting off a rather important bit in the name of earning some quiet for Phillip to finish. Apparently, Freddy's face had been priceless as the Trapper loomed over him, demanding his rather swift retreat from the fire. 

It had taken all of three seconds for Freddy to process the lack of attention to a missing survivor, and less than one more for him to conclude Quentin was somewhere in the Killer's domain. It was then that Freddy had _imploded_ with rage.

Too bad he hadn't even gotten the chance to swipe at Evan, as Bubba had seen the oncoming danger and  _immediately_ fired up his chainsaw behind the smaller killer. Freddy had tried to fight back against the chainsaw wielder, but was promptly reminded that chainsaws were more efficient than finger gloves.

What was left had been gleefully chucked into the fire by Amanda and Bubba, as Maxie had convinced the larger that the dream master was 'unworthy of becoming his prized Chili'. 

Quentin laughed so hard his back began to lock up, forcing Michael to carry him upstairs to lay him down.

It had only taken minutes for the laughter to dissolve into exploring hands and soft kisses. The lingering touches were far less important than the lips and tongue caressing his own, but the tickling sensation of a looming Michael's curtain of blonde had Quentin pausing to pull Michael's hair into a messy ponytail. 

It had taken only a few seconds of staring for Quentin to release a shuddering sigh, pulling Michael back on top of him in the name of purposeful kisses without blonde strands distracting him.

To his eternal amusement, **_that_ **was how Freddy **_finally_ **found them.

Both were surprised when stomping footsteps preluded the bedroom door flying open, and Michael turned with a knowing look as he expected Max- who frequently joined Evan or Phillip whenever they came over, and understandably didn't know why the door would be closed- to be the culprit of the intrusion. Instead, the lounging pair were met with Freddy's look of surprise as he locked eyes with a maskless Michael and a promptly laughing Quentin pinned beneath him on the bed. 

The taller killer immediately sat up as all amusement slid from his face, staring directly at the burnt man with a look Quentin knew well. The former survivor chose not to draw attention to how Michael's hands trailed down his shoulders to rest weightlessly upon his stomach.

Michael  _hated_ interruptions, and _**utterly despised**_ anything that compromised his personal privacy- that was a lesson Quentin had learned early on. 

The intimidation seemed to work as Freddy took the slightest of steps back. He recovered quickly though, and the anger bloomed once more. "Stealing my survivor now? How about you bother your precious sister?" 

Quentin scoffed and used the tips of his fingers to creep up Michael's thighs. "Tell that to the Entity, fuckface." 

Freddy's subsequent glare seemed so much less frightening when Quentin wasn't sleep deprived.

Michael was now sliding one leg of the edge of the bed, shifting his weight the same way he did when he was vaulting a window. 

Freddy openly showed his disgust as Quentin blatantly checked out his lover's butt as the taller killer rose. Quentin rolled onto his stomach, shifting slightly to cross his ankles in the air and support his head on the heels of his palms. Michael spared him a glance then, tracing over the long fingers that now covered his cheeks and framed his eyes with the back of his own pointer finger. Quentin turned his head to kiss the fleeing digit as Michael picked the chef's knife up off the night table. 

Freddy was now three steps back, cursing like a hissing cat and twitching his blades as a challenge. "You just fuckin' wait, you little bitch! You have to go to a trial at  _some_ point! Then that slut will be  _ripe_ for the picking!" 

Quentin outright laughed then, giving Freddy an utterly amused smile. "Do you  _really_ think you're any kind of shit against  _Michael? **Especially**_ when you just cockblocked him after waltzing into his home uninvited?"

No matter how many times he saw it, watching the graceful stalk turn to a powerful lunge struck a bit of fear and admiration- and a little something else- into the core of Quentin's belly. Judging from the flash of expression that crossed Freddy's face as Michael 'escorted' his torso into the nearest wall, Quentin knew it was a source of awe-inspiring fear for all. 

Quentin watched with amusement and morbid interest as Michael took Freddy apart. The screams and the wet squelching of a blade meeting skin was a sound he was fairly used to, so it didn't really disturb his thorough enjoyment of watching the muscles of Michael's back work.

Pushing himself into a seated position, Quentin watched the green begin to pool around the limp mass of meat at Michael's feet. His eyes trailed up and down the solid frame towering over what was left of Freddy as Michael unzipped his overalls, effortlessly kicking off his boots- and in the process, Freddy's arm across the room- before sliding the dirtied garment to the floor. Quentin winked as he pointed to a spot on his own cheek, making Michael frown. A single confirmation touch had Michael grimacing and giving him a small nod of appreciation before he disappeared into the hallway.

After around a minute of waiting, Michael returned with hair that seemed slightly damp around the hairline- the splash of goop was now absent from angular features. Once in range, quick kiss to Michael's cheek revealed an unnatural warmth that could only come from the bathroom tap. 

Quentin immediately pulled Michael back into his arms, nuzzling into his throat before pressing soft kisses up to his ear. The offer he gave was nearly inaudible and supremely mischevious, but it still had Michael's brow rising as he smirked. 

With Freddy regenerating and bleeding out less than three feet away, Quentin laid himself back onto the bed. Both chose to ignore Freddy as he crawled down the stairs as soon as he was able to move, leaving a sticky green streak to confirm his exit. 

Michael was _adorably_ clingy when Evan showed up later that evening, obviously pleased with himself as Evan had to give him a firm lesson in proper etiquette with other killers- while keeping a straight face. All in the name of keeping the peace, of course.

Even with the laughter that was poorly suppressed, Michael knew Evan took his role seriously and sat obediently through his chastisement. Quentin continued to lounge in Michael's arms, grinning widely and doing everything in his power to distract his lover from the senior killer before them. 

By the end, Evan was laughing as he walked out the door, making a promise to find him a scarf to hide the new hickies on his throat. They fell asleep on the couch that night, comfortably sprawled and exhausted. 

* * *

 

The morning after had Quentin in his killer's outfit as he walked to the campfire with a masked Michael, ready for a day of training with the others. Kenneth glared from his spot on the log as Michael disappeared into the fog for his trial, coughing as Evan protectively placed a hand on Quentin's back to lead him away. Those who wanted to witness some of the more 'advanced' jukes had already taken up position in the coal tower, watching from above as Quentin ran Evan around. 

The first thing Quentin noticed was the  _smell_. 

 _Something_ smelled utterly  _divine,_ but Evan wouldn't tell him what- only shaking his head with a smile that was glimpsed through a mask and promising he would find out later. 

Quentin gave him absolute hell in his demonstrations in return. He could only giggle as Evan grew increasingly flustered as the night rolled on, with Quentin only being caught twice the entire time. Rin eventually came down next, finally confident enough to try it herself. 

She only caught him once, but none of the others had the heart to tell her that Quentin had purposely waited behind the wall for her to catch up. She was so pleased by the end of her run, and happily passed the opportunity off to the Huntress. 

Anna had learned quickly, and Quentin was honestly a little frightened by how she adapted her strategy to her new knowledge. She was fast on her feet and even faster with her eyes, leading Quentin to truly have to  _try_ to lose her between anything he could.  

In the end, he had run her around the shortest between each grab- but she had taken longer overall, with the time she spent coddling him between runs included.

Anna's spectacular performance had everyone reluctant to try to best it, but thankfully Bubba decided it was time to start dinner- he still insisted on cooking for everyone, and the Entity seemed amused enough with his antics to always keep the fridge full of venison and the trees full of fresh- not rotted, like in the trials- pig and steer. 

Quentin took great pleasure in watching Phillip lord over what was  _obviously_   ** _his_** kitchen.

Bubba and Maxie were surprisingly graceful in the normally spacious room, but it was quickly filled with two massive bodies, a thinner one, and the former survivor all crowding in its walls. It was Phillip's delight to immediately pull the knife from Quentin's hand before he even chopped one bell pepper, unintentionally looming behind him as gentle hands guided Quentin's own to the proper way to tend to a knife.

Judging from Michael's similar grasp on his own blade, Phillip was fond of correcting people on their knife skills.  

With a pile of beautifully cut peppers before him, Quentin happily announced that that was the first time he had ever diced anything without dicing his hand in the process. Phillip's hands stroked through Quentin's hair in reward as the youngest paid full attention to Bubba's instructions, making sure to ask many questions about his chili recipe-Bubba was _ecstatic_.

Once the pot was bubbling away on the stove, the two chainsaw lovers were chased out to clean up, and Quentin was gestured forward. 

A ridiculous amount of vegetable dicing later- and more than a few tears on behalf of the onions, which had  _promptly_ freaked Phillip out and caused quite the scene- they carried two massive trays out to where Evan was tending a firepit. Anna was beside Evan, grinding up utterly insane amounts of spices. Judging from the multitude of bowls, she had been out here the entire time they were cutting up the veggies. Evan took Quentin's tray with a nod, and Phillip placed his on a nearby stump before gesturing Quentin over. His spice grinding form was also sub-par, but it was Anna that corrected him. 

By the time Maxie came out in a fresh red shirt, they were finally finished with the mortar and pestle. 

Quentin had to contain his amazement as Evan pried the top off of the largest fire pit he had ever seen in his life. Three  _entire_ pigs rested atop smoldering coals encased in enough smoke to have a dive bar beaming with pride. 

The smell hit him seconds later, and Quentin couldn't help but nod his approval.

Evan was beaming with pride at Quentin's face. "Fresh barbeque is  _always_ the best, Quentin." 

He couldn't help but agree as Evan taught him how to make the ground spices into a sauce and watched how The Trapper liberally spread it over each hog with an honest to god _string_ _mop._  

He watched in awe and horror as Anna helped him flip each pig-  _with her bare hands._ Evan shook his head as he explained she thought the turning hooks were for weaklings. Quentin did his best to help Evan shovel more spent coals into the pit, but quickly tired out and had to relinquish his shovel to Max. 

Within an hour the veggies were grilled, the barbeque was shredded, and the chili was ready to serve. Everyone- except Freddy and Kenneth, who outright refused to join in the dinner each time- was settled in and ready to eat. An empty chair was respectfully left beside Quentin, as Michael should be finished with his trial very soon. 

The first bite of chili had Quentin reconsidering any thought he ever had pertaining to returning to the survivor camp. 

Bubba beamed with pride as the table descended to its usual shenanigans.

Amanda gasped and yelled  _"MY BROTHERS!"_ upon sight of the hogs, but gleefully ate her fill. Quentin made the mistake of teasing her about eating her so-called 'brothers', to which her reply was 'cannibalism is delicious' and sent the entire table into roaring laughter. 

Bubba ate carefully, which surprised Quentin. He had honestly expected the face-donning killer to eat similarly to Max- who would certainly require another bath after dinner- but Sally helpfully filled in the blanks in Quentin's knowledge. The highlight of the Evening was when Phillip finally forced Evan to take his mask off, shyly pressing a kiss to Evan's cheek as everyone around them broke into gasps, giggles, and smiles. 

Michael appeared just as Evan put the mask back on to cover his growing flush, and was  _quite_ upset to have just missed the rare sight. 

It was quickly made up for as he was filled in on what he had missed. 

His meal passed as the others lingered to digest, with no small part of it being fed by Quentin after he had situated himself in Michael's lap. Anna and Phillip were about to burst by the time Michael had pulled the plate from Quentin's hands, pressing their lips together to serve as an extended distraction. 

Quentin noticed how Michael had tactfully avoided both the broccoli _and_ the bell peppers by kissing him until he forgot to make the larger eat them. 

Phillip, however, did not forget, prompting the funniest standoff Quentin had ever seen. 

By the time a now-sulking Michael finished the offending veggies, Quentin was helping to wash the dishes and load the wood into the furnace to prep for tomorrow's meal. Judging from the way Anna lobbed an axe and  _fucking caught a falling cow,_ tomorrow was a beef night. Evan disappeared into the shack to help Anna prep the meat as Amanda waved him over to the lovingly dubbed 'jungle gym'.

She was looped ruthlessly, and was not able to grab him before she grew frustrated and called it quits. He laughed at her look of indignity when he stepped out of the locker. 

The next challenger prompted a childish 'ooooh!' from Amanda, who promptly taught it to a confused Rin. Quentin was convinced she was creating a monster as Michael set his mask and knife aside. 

It was still ridiculously hard to hide from his lover, but he managed a few good losses as he crammed himself into the 'ultimate reserves'. 

Michael was not pleased when he found Quentin kneeling between a barrel and a wall, and took it upon himself to punish Quentin properly- by pinning him to the wall and allowing wandering hands and soft lips to break Quentin's concentration. 

Anna's laughter when Michael  _stood and fucking walked off_ echoed through the ironworks, and Evan's joined hers as Quentin became the hunter.

Turns out, Michael was a fairly good hider, and an even better sneak. 

By the time they had made it to the suffocation pit, Quentin was rather bothered by both the competitiveness boiling his blood, and the sheer arousal coursing through his veins. 

Quentin caught many glimpses of his lover around walls and through windows, and followed him relentlessly. The (former) entrance to the mine was barely lit, and Quentin wondered if Michael would be able to pull a Claudette on him with the poor lighting. Still, he stepped inside and took his time looking around. 

His final answer was yes, Michael could pull a Claudette if he damn well pleased, and turned to leave the pit.

The hand that covered his mouth and pulled him against a strong chest scared the absolute piss out of him, but the hand that crept into his jeans and the teeth that closed on his throat had him arching back into the blonde's grasp within seconds. With Michael's insistence on keeping his hands where they were, Quentin found the pit to be aptly named. 

The lightheaded satisfaction that came after forced Michael to carry him back, which had Evan laughing so hard he had to sit on a nearby crate to catch his breath. Michael grinned as Quentin gave the laziest goodbye wave he could muster, not bothering to remove his head from Michael's shoulder or his grin from his lips. Quentin's memory of the night ended with the steam a warm bath surrounding him as he laid back against Michael's chest. 

The next morning found him in a trial with his beanie, the photo, and a Cypress mori attached to his blade. Meg fell quickly, unwilling to even look at him as she tried to flee. It became her downfall as he cut her off around a corner, tossing her up on a hook before moving on. Jake saved her after he finished his nearby gen, earning a hook as David Tapp was chased across the map. Quentin watched Meg work on a gen as Jake was freed, finishing his chase with Tapp and striking him down. 

He got the basement, and Quentin moved on. 

Meg was found and hooked again before Quentin caught sight of the fourth survivor, as they had saved Meg before he had even had the chance to move away. 

Circling back around the killer shack, she nearly ran straight into him. 

Wide green eyes stared up at his mask, and he froze as she instinctually pushed blonde hair out of her eyes. 

Quentin took several slow steps back before shaking his head and disappearing to sit in the upstairs of the Mother's Dwelling for the rest of the trial. 

It thankfully ended soon after, and Quentin made a beeline or Michael when he was back at the fire. 

He missed how Kenneth's eyes watched as he was scooped up and carried away.

* * *

The new survivor at the campfire was a bittersweet thing, especially since it solidified the belief that Quentin wasn't coming back. But, that didn't stop everyone from introducing themselves to the shaken young woman. 

She was polite and curious, but obviously wary as she listened to the rundown of the trials. She nodded along and asked questions frequently, right up until Claudette made a realization. "Mon Deu, we're all rude! We never asked your name, or anything about you!" 

The blonde waved it off as Kate smiled at her. "It's alright, I think it's more important to understand what just happened anyway. I'm Kris- Kris Fowles. I don't really remember how I got here anyway, so I'm afraid it's not very helpful..." Jake shrugged.

"Most of us don't remember, so it's alright. I just remember falling asleep and waking up here, utterly drenched." 

Kris nodded with a soft smile. "All I remember was getting harassed by-" she hesitated shaking her head. "-by someone in my dreams after my boyfriend committed suicide. I dreamt that I was being chased, and he was trying to kill me. When I woke up, I was with you guys in that forest." 

The silence was deafening. 

"Does he wear a green and red sweater?" 

The look on her face said everything. 

Claudette did her best to comfort the young lady after she was told of Freddy. 

It was silently agreed to leave Quentin out of the story. 

* * *

The next trial was even more stressful, as yet another new survivor appeared in the trial against the hillbilly. He was tall and didn't know to hide, so he was hooked rather quickly. David winced as he freed the terrified man from the hook, easily taking him under his wing for the rest of the trial. 

The newcomer watched in horror as Dwight and Jeff died, but managed to give his name before he himself was found and hooked. 

Dean's appearance at the campfire was almost heartbreaking to watch, especially with how Kris clung to him and explained that he did not just fall asleep at the diner. 

Their mutual horror furthered the group's when they continued their conversation. 

"God, poor Nancy. She must have been horrified." Kris gave him a sad smile, squeezing the arm she had claimed as her own. "She was pretty shaken at the funeral, but Quentin was really supportive for her. I know they were texting before Jesse showed up in my room, Nancy had asked me for his number." 

Dean nodded as he ran a hand through his shorter curls. "God, I hope they're okay. Quentin's too skittish for getting haunted by some deranged wacko- especially with his dad up his ass all the time." 

Kris' expression was more of an answer than words could be. 

Dean's sudden snort of laughter was an abrupt change. "Hey, look at the bright side though. He  _finally_ got her number, and he didn't even need to ask!" 

Kris  _immediately_ pushed him away, bursting into her own laughter and covering her face with her hands. "Oh my  _god_ ,  _Dean! No!"_

He put a hand to his chest and gave the most charismatic smile he could. "I will be the sacrificial wingman." 

Her  _noooooo_ drug out as she burried her face into his shoulder, shaking her head as he laughed. 

Ace was the one to break the silence for the rest of the survivors. "Is...Quentin a friend of yours?"

Dean smiled as Kris pushed her hair out of her face. "Yeah. The five of us- Me, Kris, Nancy, Jesse, and Quentin- all go to-um...  _went_  to- high school together. He's a cute kid, but his dad's weirdly protective of him. He gets a little defensive because of it and usually hangs out with Jesse."

Kris barely held back her laugh. "Yeah.  _Hangs out."_

Dean groaned. "Oh don't start this again." 

Kris gave him a pursed grin and looked away coyly. 

David grinned. "Oh, don' leave it'tat that!" 

Kris grinned wider. "I am  _convinced_ they've slept together. You don't get  _that_ friendly without being bisexual." 

Dean sighed. "Babe, he's had a thing for Nancy since  _grade school."_

Her look didn't change as she crossed her arms. "Friends with Benefits,  _babe._ I'd absolutely fuck Nancy if she was down, but that doesn't mean I don't love  _you_." 

Dean laughed as he rolled his eyes. "Projecting!"

Kris bumped him with her shoulder as she grinned. " _Woman's intuition!_ He is 100% into guys-  _especially_ taller guys. I'd put my savings on it!" 

Dean shook his head. "If I had a savings account, I'd take that bet."

The word  _bet_ had Ace perking up. "Ohhhh, that sounds confident!"

Dean nodded with a rather smug grin. "Absolutely I am! Quentin and Jesse would  _never_ work out!" 

Kris crossed her arms as she and Kate shared a look. The southerner gave a polite smile as she shook her head. "And  _why_ are ya so convinced?" 

"Because!" Dean readjusted, pointing to Ace and Kate in turn. "Quentin may be a bit shy, but that's because his dad is a controlling dick to him- He and Jesse would never work out because of two reasons." He held up one finger. "One, Jesse is controlling. He doesn't like it when Quentin does anything that  _he_ doesn't want to do- hell, look at whenever he lingers to talk to Nancy. As _soon_ as Jesse realizes Quentin isn't behind him, he's coming back to collect him! And Two-" he held up another finger as Kris nodded in concedence.

"Two is that Jesse overtalks him. Quentin would  _need_ to be with a quieter person, or his whole 'my opinion isn't that important, so I'll just keep my mouth shut' will come right back into effect. If he tried to hook up with Jesse, he'd just clam up and it wouldn't work out! He needs someone quiet and sweet that he can be more himself with. You know, someone _he_ can protect, instead of relying on someone for once." He leant back and crossed his arms, holding back laughter as Kris took his challenge with a dramatic finger, head tilt, and smirk. 

" _But._ Quentin is a total introvert- you can't put him with someone quiet and expect results, so he would  _need_ someone a little more commanding or he would never even make a move- before you even try to deny it,  _Nancy._ " Dean puckered his lips to the side as he crossed his arms. "And if they're  _not_ protective or 'commanding' as you call it-" Dean rolled his eyes at her air quotes. "-I  _guarentee_ he won't thrive in a relationship, because it doesn't make someone feel special when their boyfriend or girlfriend doesn't care where they are. Quentin would _especially_ need that since his mom wasn't in the picture!" 

Dean groaned and rolled his eyes. "Your Freudian is showing." 

Kris immediately smacked at him. "I am  _not_ a Freudian!" 

Bill was snickering behind his cigarette by now. "You two have put some thought into this." 

Kris gave him an exasperated look. "It's our favorite topic. He's never dated  _anyone,_ even though he's been to so many parties! I've never even seen him go home with anyone!" 

Dean gasped and leant in. " _I know right!?"_

The gossip continued as Dwight shared a small smile with Claudette. The two glanced around the campfire to the other looks, remaining silent for now.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the kris/dean convo is based on a convo my friend and I had about our third friend. I found it oddly fitting for one of Quentin's friends and just had to include it


	15. Adjustments

To say Michael was shaken by Quentin's uprooted re-emergence from the fog was an understatement. However, that didn't stop him from opening his arms for his smaller lover and immediately holding him to his chest, sliding his hand under Quentin's hat to stroke at the dark curls as he carried Quentin to the fire near Evan's property.

The campfire had immediately lost the jovial air that had developed- despite Kenneth's current presence- as Quentin pulled the mask from his face and let it fall to the ground in favor of pressing his face into Michael's neck. 

Phillip's worried coos quickly followed- along with the rest of the killers, save for the Clown- as the Wraith moved to offer his own support. Quentin wasn't looking at him, so naturally, he missed how Phillip kept glancing back to Evan as they both took account of the way he trembled in Michael's arms. Eventually, he managed to get out a few words. "Kris is here. I don't know how, she was dead! But I  _saw_ her, I-" He cut off again as Michael squeezed him closer. Evan, thankfully, took up a role in comforting the youngest killer.

"Hey now, it's alright. The Entity takes people from all sorts of places in time, so it probably just nabbed her just before she died." Quentin shook his head as he clung to Michael's hand. "What if it brings Nancy in? What if all of this was for nothing?" 

Michael took off his mask, dipping his head to kiss Quentin softly. With their foreheads pressed together, it was easy to feel the hand creeping into his own hair as Quentin held him close. 

When the fog rolled in, Bubba stood proudly and tossed an offering into the fire.

The killers frowned as it didn't burn, and Michael was taken by the fog. 

Evan frowned as he scooped the confused brunette into his own arms, shaking his head. "The Entity's probably throwing a fit. Did you sacrifice the newbie? Kris?" 

Quentin shook his head, almost violently. "No, I can't- I could never-" His voice broke as tears threatened to re-emerge, but Evan hushed him and coaxed his head onto his shoulder. "It's alright. Mikey's a good killer, he'll be done quickly and come right back to you."

Anna took the open spot to Evan's right, positioning herself behind Quentin to hum her lullaby in his ear. Evan allowed Quentin to dip backward onto her chest, but still kept his grip on the thinner legs to ensure he didn't spill out onto the ground.

Quentin didn't bother moving, save for the trembling and the occasional sob that escaped his chest. 

* * *

Michael was more than upset that he was pulled into the trial, but knew better than to fail this time. 

With Haddonfield around him, he knew what was expected- all four sacrificed before the gens were finished. 

Michael gripped his knife with purpose. 

He would do it before the third popped.

Moving across the street, he quickly found Bill. He was hooked beside the gen he never even got to start. 

Dwight fell next, having been plucked from a window after obtaining his first injury.

Feng was downed after she saved Dwight, who fell after attempting to make a rather ballsy run for Bill.

Feng was rescued, but Bill died on the hook. Dwight met his end after a short chase around the police car. 

Feng died quickly after, shoving someone who didn't know how to vault a window through the frame in an act of self-sacrifice. He put her in the basement, unconcerned for his victory- 

Mostly because not a single gen had been finished.

 _That_ would teach them a valuable lesson in reckless Altruism.

The fourth managed to finish a gen before Michael found him, but the Haddonfield native took his time with this one. 

He could feel his heart racing as the older looking teen- so similar to Quentin's age- looked back at him with a panicked gaze. 

Michael took great pleasure in driving his knife between his shoulder blades, sending the last obstacle between himself and Quentin crashing to the concrete.

The man immediately rolled over, looking up in horror as Michael loomed over him with a bloody knife. 

His eyes drifted down as Michael bent to lift him, transfixed by the necklace that slipped free of his jumpsuit.

"Wh-...  _Where did you get that necklace?!"_

Michael ignored him as he lifted the man by the throat, dropping him onto the nearby hook. He mindlessly caressed the metal of the cross as the entity stole the stunned survivor.

He had done very, very well indeed.

* * *

The moment Dean had been whisked away, Claudette smiled knowingly at Kris. "You should come with me for a bit- the way you heal yourself is a little different here, and knowing some of the Fauna you should look for could be the difference between life and death."

After a brief moment of confusion, Kris smiled widely. "Of course, a little learning never hurt anybody!" 

Kate smiled at Claudette as she led the other woman into the forest. Claudette started explaining each plant as they passed it, and how it could be either used as an offering, or as a medicinal herb.

As soon as she was out of earshot of the campfire, Claudette turned and gripped a surprised Kris by the forearms. "You need to listen to me. I don't have long before someone comes along to try to stop me from telling you."

Kris blinked in surprise, but remained silent with a nod of acceptance. " _Quentin_ _is here_ _too_ , but you won't see him at our campfire." The excitement bled from Kris' face as Claudette continued with "Not anymore."

Her eyes widened as Claudette looked over Kris' shoulder, dragging her deeper into the woods. 

"The short version is that Quentin is dating a killer, and some of the survivors didn't take well to that. They trapped him in a match with Freddy, and after that went down he was taken to the killer campfire as an incentive for Michael to do well in his trials. Very recently, The Entity has been putting him in as our killer, and he can't deny it without serious risk to himself. Your first killer was  _Quentin."_

Kris shook her head in immediate denial. "Quentin could never hurt anyone."

Claudette gave that sad smile once more. "He will if he's in a trial, for lots of reasons. One, we don't die for good of we're killed here- so he doesn't have to worry about permanently hurting us. Two, we have no clue what the entity will do if he performs badly, since he wasn't recruited to play its game from the killer's role. And three, if he does well, he gets to sleep with the snack he calls a boyfriend whenever he wants."

Kris immediately grinned as her entire demeanor changed. "He's a snack huh?"

Claudette giggled as she sat in a rather full bush. "Oh sweetheart, don't ever let Laurie hear this conversation."

* * *

Dean stepped back to the fire more than shaken, and immediately searching for Kris amongst the small sea of faces.

Not seeing her, he immediately turned to scan the bushes. 

Bill sighed, flicking his cigarette. "He's not out there boy- the killers don't come to our fire." 

"Fuck that, I need to talk to Kris!" Dean immediately moved towards the wood, but David was fast on his feet. He blocked his path by placing his hands on Dean's chest. "Ey now, it's aiite! It was just Michael!"

Dean  _immediately_ shoved him backward as hard as he could.  _"Michael_ is wearing my best friend's necklace!"

The campfire went silent, but Meg spoke up. "Who's your friend?" 

"Guy by the name of Quentin Smith-. He's a quiet one, but an absolute sweetheart as long as you don't get touchy with him. He's gotta be here and I have to tell Kris!" Dean immediately began to walk, but David caught him once more by the elbow.

"Dean, lad, it's a necklace! Anyone could have bought it!" Although Dean could feel David's patient frustration, he ripped his arm away once more. "Not when  _I **made**  _it for him in shop class! It took three hours to get that damn cross to look like the rosary he lost!"

 _That_ shut David up, and he wasn't able to recover until after Dean had disappeared into the woods. The campfire shared a moment of silence, filled with nervous and ashamed looks. Meg fell backward off her log with a loud groan. 

* * *

Dean was utterly baffled as he stared at Kris' face. "What do you mean 'you know'?"

Claudette smiled softly and patted the grass beside her.

It only took about thirty minutes for him to be the strangest mix of horrified and proud he had ever been in his life. 

* * *

Michael was a man on a mission. 

The campfire he had left Quentin at was empty when he returned, and the betrayal boiled his blood- but he was quick to push it down. 

Something had happened, that's why they hadn't waited for him to return. They weren't _hiding_  Quentin from him. That was an outright _stupid_ thought that bloomed from the issues he knew _must_ exist that had never been addressed. 

He found Anna on the porch of Evan's house, acting as a vigil guard for those inside. Upon seeing Michael, she jolted to her feet to approach him with broken English. "Boy sleep! We put bed! Come!"

Michael followed obediently, relaxing his hand. If they had harmed Quentin, they would all pay. 

The house was deathly quiet inside. Even Max and Bubba had taken to the rather silent activity of cleaning their chainsaws downstairs, and Michael made a mental note to thank them later somehow. But at the moment, his biggest concern was ascending the steps and finding his lover.

This time, he wasn't hard to find. Evan sat in the rocker beside the bed, his cleaver in hand as he watched protectively over the relatively tiny killer and his own lover. 

Phillip was humming so quietly Michael could barely hear him, running his hands through curly locks that seemed desperate to keep his fingers trapped against his head. The bark-like skin probably didn't help at all.

Quentin was pale and still, but Michael could see the steady rise of his chest and the lingering redness around his eyes. Quentin had worked himself up to the point that he cried himself to sleep. 

Michael gave Evan a respectful nod before slid an arm under Quentin's legs, using his other to roll his head towards his shoulder. Quentin didn't even stir as Phillip carefully took his kitchen knife, setting it upon Quentin's stomach. It stayed there the entire walk to Haddonfield.

Michael set it on the bedside table before he slid off his jumpsuit, removing his mask to rest it beside his knife. 

He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of the floral fragrance that somehow clung to Quentin's hair despite his many deaths. Michael held him close to his chest, his eyes drawn to the way that the medallion reflected the barest hint of light onto Quentin's face. 

He remained transfixed by the natural luminescence until blue eyes fluttered open, meeting his own gaze for only a moment before he was pulled too close to see properly. This was when Michael decided to 'see' through taste, and Quentin's lips eagerly met his own. 

Michael found himself torn on whether or not he should relish the way Quentin clung to him when they shared their touches, given it was derived from the desperate need for comfort, not from the simple desire to be close to Michael himself. 

It wasn't until morning that Michael was able to get a clear answer as to _why_ Quentin was so upset. 

He had listened patiently, but his head tilted when Kris' boyfriend- a boy his age, by the name of Dean- was described. 

Quentin looked heartbroken when Michael eventually got the point across that Dean had just been sacrificed in a trial. 

Michael wondered for the first time if he should have spared the teen, but Quentin snuffed his worries by resting his head on Michael's shoulder and snuggling close. "I guess it's a good thing in itself... The Entity didn't bring Nancy into this hellscape." 

Michael kissed his forehead. 

Quentin's lips twitched into a grin. "Yes, it's still a hellscape. You make it bearable." 

Michael hid his own grin in Quentin's hair until Quentin was pulled from his grasp for another trial. 

* * *

Opening his eyes to the MacMillan Storehouse was a pleasant surprise, but Quentin quickly set to work. He could feel the internal pressure to keep The Entity pleased- he wasn't brought in as a killer, and could easily be discarded if he failed too often. 

This time, he knew what to expect, even if he had forgotten to bring add-ons. He had his shroud of separation, and he would make do. 

Jeff was easy to find, considering he puffed like Evan after chasing Max through a cornfield. The improving survivor only ran him around for a single gen before the hook met his shoulder. 

Quentin didn't stop to chat, immediately moving to the notification of a chest being searched. Bill was the one with his nose in the box- he gave Quentin a sad smile when he approached. Quentin gave him a little wave before gesturing to run. 

He got a ten-second head start before Quentin chased him down too. 

Jeff was saved in tandem with the second gen popping, but Quentin went for the person that unhooked Jeff- Amanda had taught him a nifty little trick.

Kate was stabbed in the weakened part of her back, dropping her in one hit. She  _immediately_  laughed as she was picked up, squeezing her arms around Quentin's neck instead of struggling. "Heyo love! That hurt ya know!" 

"I know, I'm sorry Kate! I promise I'll make it quick." Quentin smiled at her laugh just before she was hooked. Before he managed to walk away, Kate called out to him. "A buddy of yours showed up after Kris- his name is Dean. Keep your eyes out!"

Quentin turned to give her a thumbs up as he walked backwards. "I know, Michael already told me. Tell them both I'm sorry in advance!" 

Kate beamed from her place on the hook. "Of course sweetheart, anythin' for  _you!"_

Quentin made a heart with his hands as he turned to get out of range. He barely made it before Make Your Choice was activated again. 

Tapp was  _pissed_ that he was learning Amanda's perks. 

Quentin couldn't  _wait_  for the reaction he would get when he actually got the runes down to have Ruin. Lisa was quite patient with teaching him, and was more than happy to have help sorting all the necessary parts of her hexes in return.

Phillip was usually with them as well, so it always wound up being a fun way to spend one of Michael's trials. 

Everyone was quickly hooked for a second time, leaving one gen left and no kills- but everyone on death hook. At the very least, The Entity would be pleased with his attempt. 

He killed Tapp and Jeff before the gen popped, catching Bill at a door to get his third. Kate proved to be a problem, having left the open doors in order to find a hatch- or a lantern that the Entity had decided to allow the survivors to collect. Quentin caught her  _just_ before she got the hatch, unable to resist smacking her rear when she tried to struggle out. She burst into giggles, pushing herself up to give him a look as he headed toward the killer shack. 

"Ohhh, gettin' all flirty wit' me hmm?" 

"Oh you wish Kate- I'm just making sure  _someone_ raises you right! All that struggling is rude!" 

"An' deprivin' lil' ol' me the hatch isn't?"

"When I need to keep Hungry McCockbock happy it isn't. It's been a real prick since I got that match with no hooks." 

Kate went 'oooohhh' knowingly, before smacking his own rear with a vengeance. 

Quentin  _almost_ dropped her, but managed to recover in time to almost hang her up on the outer hook. 

She gasped, giving him a pout. "Noooo, give me a view! Put me on the hill!" 

Quentin turned his head, grinning and sighing dramatically. "So needy!" 

"Of _course_ I am, I'm a  _performer!_ You gotta take  _care_ of me babeeey~!"

They both laughed as he dropped her onto a hook. She kept smiling as the claws came down around her, giving him some rather vulgar pointers before she was silenced. Unable to resist, he smashed the lantern beside the Killer shack. 

He had no clue what these two tokens did, but he was rather pleased with The Entity's praise.

It was a far happier reunion with Michael this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter chap, but ive been busy with school and another fic and just wanted to get an update out. I havent forgotten, I promise!!! <3
> 
> If you get a bunch of notifications for me editing later, let me know. I dont know if it emails you guys when I update each individual chap with fixes.


	16. Moving On

Michael met him at the fire, holding his arms open in a far too pointed ' 'offering' '- Which Quentin accepted with no hesitation. His arms flew around Michael's neck, pulling himself upwards as Evan outright laughed. His pouting tone had Sally giggling, even as Phillip cooed. "Miiiichaaaaael! Kate touched my butt!" 

The reaction Quentin got was _absolutely_ **_hilarious_**. 

He was  _immediately_ lowered in favor of Michael pulling his knife from his suit, moving toward the campfire with dangerous intent. He made it all of two steps before Quentin burst into laughter, flopping onto the ground and grabbing his pant leg. "It's _okay!_  I smacked hers and gave her a Simba!" 

Michael turned to give Quentin a confused look. Quentin giggled and shook his head with false exasperation that never failed to make Michael roll his eyes. "I hooked her on the hill."

Michael shifted his grip on his blade.

The point was clear- it was  _not_ okay.

Quentin pulled Michael's pant again as a smile slipped onto his face, and this time his lover conceded. Michael sat in the dirt beside him, allowing Quentin to crawl into his arms with a victorious smile. After a few seconds of settling in and a kiss to the latex Jaw of his mask, Quentin whispered quietly in Michael's ear. "She said she would tell Dean and Kris what was going on."

Michael's arm slid protectively around Quentin's waist, leaving him content to watch the fire with Quentin in his arms. Anna quickly reappeared from her trial- having left as Quentin returned- only for her to coo at the snuggled up lovers and take a spot on the log behind Michael. 

His mask was promptly removed- much to Michael's annoyance, based on the put-upon frown he now sported. Anna stroked her fingers through his hair, humming a nonsensical tune while she braided and unbraided the long locks. Amanda was quick to join, giggling as she pinned Michael's right side. Sally gracefully claimed his left, smiling politely as Michael was formally pinned in position.

Quentin took the opportunity to change his own angle, sitting more of a lazy bridal style that gave him room to slip his arms over Michael's shoulders. The hands sliding up his waist betrayed the incoming grin long before it met Michael's lips, but it didn't last long either way. Mostly because Michael's lips were soon busy against Quentin's - much to the amusement of those pressed against them both.

To give the lovebirds a moment together, Evan stepped up to take the next trial.

He rolled his shoulders, taking in a deep breath before the fog enveloped him. Phillip managed to squeeze his hand before he disappeared fully, earning a glance back over a metal-marred shoulder. Everyone could see the smile under the teeth of his mask as clearly as they could see the implication of the silent conversation.

_Do well._

_You know I will._  

The tension slowly drained from around the camp, and by the time another six trials had passed, everyone was back to their usual antics- if not enhanced by Michael  _willingly_ entertaining the two rambunctious chainsaw killers as per the suggestion of Quentin. Quentin had _absolutely_ fawned over that, watching as his lover played his own hide-and-seek from the pair. His mask and overalls had been cast aside in favor of his dark underclothes and a ponytail, serving him well as he ghosted himself around the MacMillan estate. 

By the time everyone had eaten, Michael was pulled into another trial and both of the Chainsaw killers were fast asleep. 

Evan simply sat against a tree to take advantage of the momentary quiet. Phillip was under his arm in seconds. 

* * *

There was something in the air of  _The Game_ that had the hair on the back of Michael's neck standing on end. 

It didn't take too long to figure out what it was- people were  _yelling._

_During a **T**_ **_rial._ **

It certainly threw him for a loop. He chose to linger back for a minute, watching a girl with brown hair shamelessly walk around a corner with an older man trailing close behind. She looked around with half-wild eyes, obviously expecting something abnormal- she was watching like a cornered dog.

This girl was used to being hunted.

How exciting. 

Michael grinned from his spot behind a stack of boxes. He knew he was only visible by a sliver of his mask- Just enough for _him_ to see _them_. 

Their calling quickly drew the attention of a male teen with barely contained dark hair- not for a lack of trying, judging from the hair gel- who had Michael tilting his head with the familiarity. He dismissed it as a fourth came up the stairs shortly after, an older lady with stark red hair calling out to the group. 

Michael had to bite the urge to laugh. A full trial with _nothing_ but newbies? How utterly cruel.

He decided to pity them somewhat, trailing behind within his 'tier one' on the cusp of upping- not yet though. He would give them the opportunity to figure out at least _one_ gen.  

Besides, he wanted to look. 

The oldest man was caucasian and stocky at best, obviously aging past his prime. His nose was his most prominent feature, resting above lips that seemed permanently set into a frown. He was dressed rather nicely, with a plaid button-up peeking out from beneath a crosshatched black and white sweater. His pants were dark in color, and Michael could see no further detail past that.

He stayed near the youngest woman, whose snow-white skin was a stark contrast to flowing dark locks. Michael was undoubtedly tempted to run his fingers through it- he would make an educated guess that it was soft. She wore a brown cardigan over a white undershirt, neither of which were tucked into her jeans. She wasn't wearing sneakers, but they looked like a thinner version of Quentin's "high tops". 

He had to repress a laugh. He still found the name for Quentin's footwear ridiculous. 

The eldest woman looked terribly frail, her bright red hair pulled up into a messy bun. It wasn't hard to assume the length, given the size of the bun itself. Michael could see the thinness of the hair from where he stood, and subsequently had no desire to investigate the brightly colored strands further. She wore a loose blouse- pink, with little white hearts- and a pair of black sweatpants that draped over simple white sneakers.

The youngest boy wore a dark blue button-down, made of what looked to be silk. His black slacks sat just above the top of shining black loafers. Overall, he looked rather bland and washed out- the only truly interesting thing about him was his stunningly hazel eyes.

Overall, very diverse in terms of a group, but mostly uninteresting as individuals. 

Growing bored, he tiered up as the gen finished, unable to resist confusing them more with the well-timed musical cue. 

He waited for the second to pop before engaging his tier three- giving them several seconds to wonder why the 'music' had not gone off with the generator's completion this time. 

He stepped around the corner, thoroughly enjoying the chaos that stemmed from downing two of them in mere seconds. Unable to resist, he allowed the two younger survivors to flee together. 

Barely containing his laughter, he left the elder survivors to bleed out as he searched- and 'lost'- the younger pair. They quickly doubled back to save their fellow survivors. 

He had forgotten how _cute_ it was when a survivor ducked behind a barrel, thinking he hadn't seen them as they begged- _**out**_ _ **loud** -_ to any god above for salvation.

He allowed them four gens- peppering downings and hooks throughout- before he decided to end the trial. 

As they all crowded around one of the last gens in the bathroom, Michael tiered up once more before stepping into the opening of the ceiling. 

None of them escaped before he drove a knife into their backs and sides, taking a moment to savor the weeps of the youngest female. She seemed to favor the eldest male, whimpering out the name 'Alan' before begging Michael to stop. 

It reminded him of his mother in a way- the way she had begged Judith not to leave her. 

He decided to leave 'Alan' for last, lifting them one by one as he carried them to the nearby basement. He could see the horror grow on their faces as each was hooked, with Michael taking a moment to investigate each as they were hooked. His head tilted as the closer investigation stirred familiarity into recognition. 

The older woman, she looked like the runner girl. 

The younger man looked like the saboteur.

The other two, Michael decided, he would investigate further. They were probably relatives of the other survivors as well. 

Michael heard the woman whimper as he turned smoothly to go up the stairs. Her cry of 'Please don't hurt them!' was ignored in favor of returning to those upstairs. 

The young lady was crawling down the hallway, following the blood trail of the elder. He  _almost_ laughed as he gripped the back of her loose brown cardigan, preparing to haul her up to get a better grip on her. 

When she was yanked into a sitting position, Michael stooped completely. 

Wide, shimmering blue eyes stared up at him. They were eyes he knew well by description, but he was surprised to see them in person. His head turned when the oldest survivor- the man- immediately began to yell to get his attention. 

"Leave her alone!"

"Don't touch her!"

"I won't let you hurt her!"

Michael was amused enough to leave the girl whom he was _positive_ was Nancy- just for now, that is. The old man needed to be investigated. 

The Man was pushing himself onto his knees-  _far_ too close to Loomis' age to be pulling such a stunt in Michael's opinion.

Michael gripped his knife tighter when they locked eyes. Those eyes, even if they were set in different sockets, were eyes he had memorized long ago.

It would see that his hunch had been correct.

He looked between the two as their newfound friends struggled against the Entity downstairs. Michael lifted a terrified Nancy by the collar of her white undershirt. 

She grasped his hand in her own bloody ones, struggling between whimpering and holding her breath. Once she was steady on her feet, Michael stepped back. 

She didn't dare look away as the two died downstairs. He looked to the older man on the ground, seconds from bleeding out. 

A single nod from him, and she lunged to help 'Alan'. He was woozy with blood loss, but he would survive. 

Michael looked to the gen before looking back to the terrified pair. The man's breath trembled as he saw Michael in the light for the first time, unobstructed by blind fear and chaos. 

Alan gripped Nancy's elbow, moving in front of her with trembling hands. "What do you want from us?"

Michael looked toward the generator again. It took a few seconds for them to understand.

Nancy moved first with her trembling hands. 

Michael watched the generator as it was completed, looking upwards as the klaxons blared. With one more glance, he moved toward the stairs. 

After several steps without the sound of an echo behind him, he stopped to turn and look at them. 

When Nancy took a few hesitant steps toward him, he turned back toward the stairs. 

After they had pieced it together that he wanted to be followed, the exit was unobstructed less than two minutes later. As they watched the gate slide open, Nancy pulled her jacket around her waist. "Why though? You could have... _killed us_..."

Michael stared for only a minute before pointing at her, wagging his finger, then pointing at his knife. 

She looked horribly confused for a second before she caught on. "I don't die?" 

Michael nodded. 

Nancy had never been more confused in her life. "I... appreciate it, but why?"

Michael sighed heavily to show his annoyance at both the question and the fact they were _interrogating_ him instead of leaving. He ran his fingers under the bottom of the chain around his neck, coaxing his necklace out into his palm. 

Nancy's eyes went wide as her hands covered her mouth. Michael pointed to the medallion, then made a tear track down the face of his mask.

Alan's eyes were locked onto the metal trinkets. "Where did...Quentin is here?"

Michael nodded. 

Nancy looked so hopeful in that moment, before realization overtook her features. "Did... did you hurt him?" 

Michael's shoulders shook with silent laughter. Both looked pale as he stepped forward and raised his knife. He was growing bored of their questions. 

Alan pulled Nancy along by the elbow as they ran out the gate. Michael looked forward to telling Quentin about the horrified eyes that watched him over her shoulder. He thumbed the round medallion as the Entity reclaimed him. 

* * *

When they stumbled into the camp, Kris outright screeched. Nancy immediately complied with her own, throwing her arms around the blonde and holding her close. 

Meg was in a similar state, clinging to her mother for dear life. Jake was beside the other new survivor, talking quietly about family on the outskirts of the group.

Dean and Kris immediately pulled Nancy and Alan to the other side of the fire, as far away as they could to explain. Kris moved a lock of hair behind her ear as Dean slipped an arm around her waist. "Guys, before we talk about anything else, Quentin is-" 

"Quentin's here. The guy with the kitchen knife has his necklace." Nancy was matter-of-fact, looking around at the absence she was certain would be explained shortly.

"Yeah. Quiet and Stalkie boy is his  _boyfriend-_  and get this. The guy's name is  _Michael Myers!_ Like, the actual Haddonfield stalker!" 

She blinked in surprise, but Alan shook his head immediately. "That's not possible- Quentin has always loved Nancy, and Michael Myers is from the _seventies_. This has to be some bozo with an impersonation." 

Dean gave him a look. "Quen's also been polyamorous and at _least_ bisexual his whole life. He probably still  _adores_ her, but that doesn't mean he can't love someone else too." 

Nancy shifted her shirt, trying to ignore how the collar was stretched from Michael's hold. "Why would Quentin ever go for someone who _kills_ other people? He's always been so mild-mannered..."

Kris shrugged. "Apparently there's a whole story behind that, but I've been told it's best for Quentin to tell it to us himself. And he's not here because people have some issues with his relationship around the campfire... It's a bit of a sore spot." 

Nancy nodded and fixed her hair, trying not to look as tired as she felt. "So, when's he coming back? Is he in one of the murder games right now?"

Dean smiled sadly. "Quentin's in the killer camp with Michael. He got put there after some of the survivors tried to 'teach him a lesson' by trapping him with Freddy in one of those death matches. He pretty much got tortured, and the thing that keeps us all here decided he would be more useful as a hunter, not part of the prey."

Alan's jaw slowly sank to his palms. Nancy rubbed his shoulder supportively as Dean tried to offer up a smile. "Hey, at least you got to actually survive your first trial! Michael fucked me _up_ during mine." 

Nancy glanced to the others. "Have you actually seen Quentin?"

Dean shook his head, but Kris gave a half-shrug. "I saw  _a_ killer my first match, but as soon as they saw me they disappeared. I found out later that they were actually Quentin. He looked pretty scary with that mask and that blade though." 

Kris- unable to hold it back anymore- reached out to pull Nancy into another hug. "So, what happened after I got pulled in here?"

"You died Kris. Everyone thought Jessie did it, but he died too. Everyone but Quentin and I wound up dead in their sleep." 

She ignored the way the blondes at the fire glanced back with disturbed looks. 

Kris smiled sadly, opening her mouth to continue. The fog rolled in and stole the four away before she could say anything. 

* * *

His Ebony gleamed on the edge of his paper cutter, and Quentin was ready- he had amassed a small fortune in Ebony and Ivory mori's, and was determined to bring one every game. That way, the Entity would never truly care if he performed badly. He knew he had to keep the Entity pleased if he wanted to see Michael- after all, if one loss sent them into back to back trials, who knew what several would do.

As the fog cleared,  he took a step forward as a familiar location sprawled out before him- but not one that he had ever seen before in the fog.

It was the Convenience Store that he had gone to with Nancy- the one that didn't fill his prescription.

It would seem that he had finally gotten his own map. His stomach sank when he realized this meant that either Kris or Dean was  _his_ survivor, and the other was to replace his role for Freddy.  

He took a few steps forward before he realized the stillness around him. 

Shroud of Binding?

Either way, no one was here.

He moved down the aisle, peeking between slats and noting how loopable they were- until you reached the end, where there was a wide open space with a gen placed in the center. He knew in his heart that the store was- in actuality- far smaller than this, but the Entity's need for trial space turned it into what seemed to be the size of an IKEA. Quentin wasn't complaining. At least it wasn't _cold_ like Ormond was- it was a surprisingly nice sixty-five to seventy. 

He took his time to investigate, looking through the back room and peeking up around the abandoned register before making his way back toward the Pharmacy itself. The door to the back was gone, but he didn't mind as he stepped into a secondary room. The door to his basement sat threateningly at the far end, and Quentin assumed it would either spawn beside the registers or back here. It was about the only two places that it could fit. A rustle had his head turning, and he froze. 

Kris smiled widely, perched on the counter. "Hey Quentin."

It only took half a second more for him to chuckle, pulling his mask free to reveal a small smile. "Hey Kris." 

"Looking all dolled up there, huh?" 

Another laugh, this time with a half-hearted shrug. "Yeah. Sorry for not greeting you at first, I was-" 

Kris cut him off by pulling him into a hug. Quentin couldn't help but drop the paper cutter as he put his arms around her waist. "I know Quen, it's scary to see a dead person. It's about to get even scarier though."

Quentin's head tilted in confusion  _just_ before Dean stepped out, latching his arms around Quentin's waist while yelling 'raaawr!' Quentin yelped in surprise, his head tilting back to see who had grabbed him. Once he realized though, he turned to hug Dean close as well. "God, man! I've missed you!" 

Dean ran his hands up Quentin's sides, smiling as he pulled the hat off to ruffle curly locks. "You too little buddy. I heard you were letting Jessie walk all over you again?"

Quentin shrugged. "Not worth the effort to deal with it, ya know?"

Dean grinned. "Oh, and a homicidal boyfriend is?"

The groan was instantaneous as Quentin rolled his eyes dramatically. 

That was the moment his father and Nancy chose to join the little grouplet. "That's actually a valid question, Quentin." 

Blue eyes turned with surprise in their depths, and Nancy easily remembered why she fell for Quentin in the first place- even if he did currently have his hand in Dean's back pocket. 

* * *

Finding a barrel to sit by had only taken a few moments, but the group settled in easily. Quentin had his blade behind him, as Nancy and Alan both kept giving it nervous looks. Quentin had put his mask and hat atop it, trying to cover the bloodier parts. "So, have you guys been given the rundown yet?"

Blank stares from the two newest met with half-committed shrugs from the two that had been through a few trials. 

Quentin half-sighed, half-grinned. "Ok. Well. Each one of these games are called a 'trial'- its usually four survivors to one killer, and the goal for you all is to repair the generators and open the gates to escape. If you have a bad trial- which is most trials, to be honest- you can escape through a hatch. But  _only_ if the number of finished gens exceeds the number of living survivors. So if you're the last one alive, you need two generators finished or you're royally fucked." 

The new survivors nodded, settling in for an explanation. 

"Each killer is unique, and you'll learn the best and worst ones pretty quickly- along with your personal preference. As a general, The Nurse, The Huntress, Michael, and Billy are all absolute bitches to go against if they're having a good day. The easiest to escape are Freddy, The Hag, and The Wraith- even if they can get the most annoying. All three of those guys can be counteracted by playing as a pair, staying as low as possible, and having a flashlight." Kris nodded, intent on listening. 

Dean was intent on derailing the conversation. "Ohhh, so your beau is pretty solid huh?"

Quentin's cheeks flushed as he gave Dean a  _look_. "Yeah, he is. If he finds a weak spot on you, he can get you on the ground in one hit. If he has one of the tombstone pieces, he doesn't need to hook you to kill you on the spot. If you see him carrying his knife and _ready_ to stab your ass, you need to bolt and stay hidden. You'll know when you're in danger because The Entity was kind enough to give survivors a musical cue- you'll hear it in that thick noggin of yours when he goes in and out of tier three. If the outro cue doesn't play after a minute and a half or so, good luck man."

Kris giggled. "He's a powerful boy then!"

Quentin propped his head on his palm. "Yeah, he is. The only real counter to him is being Claudette-tier at hiding and gen-rushing the hell out of him. If you hear the music though, _actually look around_. He's probably off in the distance watching you like a creep. He does that."

Nancy's frown deepened. "If he's a creep, why are you dating him?" 

Alan's look was worried, but Kris and Dean just leant forward and pushed his shoulder respectively. "Oh yeah, you've got to tell us the scoop Quenny-Quin!"

Quentin sighed and rolled his eyes, shoving Dean back. "It's a bit weird. My first trial, he had brought a Cypress mori- meaning he could kill the last survivor in the trial, regardless of if I'd been hooked or not. Apparently, he thought I was interesting since I just stood out in the open like a complete idiot at the beginning of a trial, and saved me for last. He killed me, but he kissed me while he did it. Still won't tell me why, but I gave up a while ago. Getting information from him is like getting Freddy to stop chasing one person per trial." His eyeroll was rather cute, but Alan still wasn't pleased.

"I died on him before he was finished playing around, and that kinda set him off on his weird obsessive tendencies. He just _kept_ saving me for last every trial we had together."

As a father, Alan didn't like the way Quentin's cheeks darkened. "I figured out pretty quickly that he wouldn't kill me if I would have escaped before he found me- if I was by the hatch, he would still let me go if _I_ stepped away to kiss _him_. It was just... it was weird as fuck, but it was a nice contrast to being hunted and slaughtered like livestock every single trial, you know?" 

Dean was grinning like a fox. "So, trading one knife for another?"

Quentin pushed Dean away with a palm to the face. _"Jesus Christ man, my dad is **right there!"**_  

Kris laughed as Nancy spoke quietly. "I heard you got trapped in a trial with Freddy."

Quentin visibly winced as the amusement drained from his face. "Yeah... some of the survivors thought that I needed to be reminded that Killers were dangerous. They blocked the gates and wouldn't open them till I got downed. Because I wasn't the last person, the hatch hadn't opened either... It really sucked because the hatch opened  _right fuckin' next to me_ , but I knew there was no way in hell I would escape with Freddy standing over me- the killers can pull you out of it if they're too close. He cut me up pretty good, and that's when The Entity took me over to the killer's fire."

The soft smile that crossed his face had his father concerned. "Most of the killers don't really want to kill- like the Wraith, which is why he throws a lot of his matches- but need to in order to avoid being tortured by The Entity. Evan- The Trapper- refused once, and he wound up with metal barbed into his body so deeply it can't be taken out. Some, like Max, just don't have the mental capacity to understand. It's just a game to them, and they'll never really figure out that what they're doing is bad." 

Nancy looked more upset each second. "And now you have to kill as they do." 

The quiet "Yeah." broke her heart. 

"I don't know what will happen if I fail too many times- I wasn't taken to be a killer, and it's by grace alone that I wasn't cast aside on the spot when I interfered with another's trials. However, The Entity  _really_ likes mori offerings, so if I can keep myself stocked up, I should be able to do as little pain as possible. I might still hook you guys up once or twice to keep it happy, but I'll do my best to keep sacrifices as low as possible." The grin that quirked had Dean worried and proud. "I'll aim for the ones that still try to give me shit." 

Dean elbowed him with a grin. "So, who's the assholes I need to beat up? Whose abusing my baby broski?!"

Quentin shook his head, linking arms with Dean and allowing himself to be pulled under his arm. "No one you need to worry about. You have to deal with the survivors, so it's best not to continue a grudge. Besides, now I can get all the revenge I waaant~" His sing songing had Kris laughing.

Eyes flickered upwards when the world suddenly flashed around them. Quentin sighed as he moved to stand. " _That_ would be The Entity getting pissy. Come on, let's do some gens."

Nancy blinked when he stood, watching as Quentin rose with utter grace. He instinctually gripped the handle of his blade as he stood, lifting it with his body. The hair stood on the back of her neck when the tip scraped across the floor, echoing around the empty store.

She couldn't help but notice how natural the cutter looked in his hand, and couldn't forget the way he looked attacking Freddy with that same blade.

It scared her more than a little bit.

Quentin's smile was disarming as he lead them to a generator. His curiosity had him wandering around corners as he waited for the generator to pop. He lead them back toward the pharmacy after that, his eyes turning toward the dark basement. A quick grin was the only warning the quartet got before he disappeared down the more-than-slightly ominous stairs. He didn't return until the nearby generator popped, smiling brightly as he grinned. "Who wants the basement chest?"

Nancy hesitantly stepped forward, giving Alan a nervous look before following the disappearing mop of curls.

Nancy _quickly_ decided that she didn't like the basement. Quentin seemed to notice her nervousness, giving her a reassuring smile. "It's alright Nancy, I'm not going to hurt you. I couldn't ever hurt you." 

She gave him a very slight grin, taking the moment to step forward and slipping her arms around his waist. There was no hesitation for him to rest his blade against the wall, curling around her and tucking his head atop hers. 

With Quentin this close, she could  _feel_ how he had changed. She could feel the scars hiding just beneath his jacket. She could see the scars hiding in the paleness of his throat. She could feel the indents on his hands, the raised welts standing in for previously missing pieces lost during many trials of generators backfiring while his hands were still trapped inside. Most of all, she could smell a hint of something she had never smelled before- a scent clinging to Quentin's hair and clothes that was far more earthy and smoky than Quentin's own berry-like smell. 

She squeezed him tighter as the pale mask from her first trial flashed through her mind. She only took another moment before she stepped back, giving him a shy smile as Quentin let his fingers trail through her hair. He knelt beside the chest, smiling like he did in the library as she knelt beside him. It took her a little while to actually find anything amongst the sheer amount of rubbish in the chest, but with Quentin's helpful coaching, she eventually pulled out a rather nice flashlight. unable to resist, she flicked the light into Quentin's face. 

He blinked owlishly before bursting into laughter, following the sound of fleeing footsteps and giggles as his vision returned. 

Unable to resist, she kept flicking the flashlight into his eyes with surprising accuracy as the other three finished the gens. Dean and Kris laughed as Quentin happily chased her around the store, calling out tips for evading whenever he could. It was easy to tell whenever she had been caught as the girlish shriek preluded both breaking down into laughter. 

By the time the last gen popped, Nancy had a flashlight in desperate need of a charge, and was being tailed by a Quentin who was nursing the beginnings of a headache. 

She opened one gate while Alan opened the other. With goodbye hugs shared- and a casual warning that Michael probably won't pity them, but might be amused enough antics to let them survive on occasion-the four waved to Quentin as they stepped through the gate. 

Alan turned last second, watching his son disappear in a burning flare of black fog. 

The campfire was in a bit of a commotion when they got back- apparently, they had been gone for a while. 


	17. Pumpkin on the Porch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for clarity's sake, this michael is a bit of an amalgamation- he is laurie's brother, he is blonde, he is 6'9, and he is a Good Murder Boi™
> 
> its p much rob zombie michael but fanfic version.
> 
> *because I can.*

Alan knew he couldn't approve of Quentin's relationship. Not because it was with a man- even if the idea bothered him, especially after what Freddy had done to Quentin- but because of  _which_ man. 

He couldn't approve because  _Quentin hadn't been lying._

Michael was an outright  _terrifying_  figure in the fog.

He had gone against Michael several times now, finding each trial more terrifying than the last.

He knew he would never forget the way that Michael had not downed anyone for an entire trial, then finally 'tiered up' to rain hell down upon them. Feng hadn't stood a chance, plucked mid-stride to meet the end of his blade. He wouldn't ever forget the way he dropped her lifeless body with no respect to the former humanity of the carcass, slowly turning his head to stare at Alan. He had been the only one to escape that trial, as Michael had led him to the hatch upon realizing that Alan couldn't remember where the door was located due to blind terror and panic. 

Michael hadn't killed him yet _at all_ , actually.

Even though each time, ** _he could have._**

Each time, he stood and stared Alan down with that blade poised to strike. He stared until he finally lost his focus, stepping forward to stare down at Alan with the exaggerated difference in their heights placed on full display.

To make him realize how small and helpless he was, even as a father. 

_It terrified him._

He was  _truly_  frightened, and all he could think about when his gaze was locked with Michael's was this-

_This beast of a man, wearing a human shape as camouflage-_

Had successfully  _seduced_  his son. 

It wasn't until a trial with David that he met the man behind the mask.

David had been running Michael- who was eerily playful that round, choosing to spare them all after hooking each twice- around the killer shack, and was breathless by the time he faked Michael out at a window. The gates had been opened several minutes ago, and he, Dwight, and Claudette had remained behind at the border to watch David (probably) throw his life away. 

Naturally, he was surprised when David reached through the window of the shack, his hand returning with a white mask- to which David cheered his accomplishment and promptly ran toward the door. 

The man with the amused smirk now leaning on the windowsill was nothing like what Alan had imagined. 

For some reason, he was expecting a gross disfigurement to match the desire to maim and kill.

He expected malformation, sheer ugliness, _something_  other than the nearly angelic face rolling his eyes at David. 

He still expected it, even when those ice-blue eyes that locked with his own froze his soul and body in tandem. 

David's tease of "Tha's wha' ya get fer not upgradin' yer bloodweb fast'nuff!" broke him out of his surprise. 

His soul-deep terror of the man before him returned when Michael grasped David by the collar of his jacket, pulling him through the window and smacking his head against the wall hard enough to knock him unconscious in one blow. With a graceful bow below the sill, Michael's mask was reclaimed. Dwight sighed and slid down the column, shaking his head. "I am _not_  dragging his ass back to the fire. I'll wait for him to wake up." 

Michael's shoulders shook in silent laughter, but the mask stayed off as he exited the shack. Alan took a careful step back, watching closely as the killer sat beside the 'unofficially official' leader of the survivors. Claudette sat in the middle of the walkway, smiling brightly as she began telling some of the funnier trials they had experienced recently- the best of which was when Nancy discovered the perk she originally thought was broken actually helped her find the hatch. 

The laughter and amused huffs quickly lulled them all into a sense of security, with Michael doing his best to convey a rather amusing round of hide-and-seek between Phillip, Max, Quentin, and Evan. 

They lingered to tell stories until the Entity threatened to dissolve the world around them. Michael huffed as he regarded David's still unconscious form still prone in the doorway to the shack, moving with an eerie grace to the unconscious survivor. 

Lifting David by the scruff of his neck seemed like an equal effort to a toddler grasping a doll, even with Claudette giggling as Michael drug the limp body behind him-only to toss him through the exit without even a flinch of serious effort. Claudette waved her goodbyes, giving Michael the message of well-wishes to pass along to Quentin. Dwight quickly followed, stepping over David- he would be deposited at the camp by the Entity, judging from how his body was dissolving into the black fog at their feet. 

Michael's gaze turned to Alan. After a brief moment, Michael's head jerked toward the section of Coldwind they had been allowed to use for this trial. With only a bit of hesitance, Alan followed Michael instead of leaving. 

"Has... Has he truly been doing well? Or did you just say that to comfort Claudette?"

Michael grinned ever so slightly before nodding. He folded his hands into a pillow to rest his head on before putting his two index fingers close together, drawing them out before tapping his wrist. 

He had to do it three times before Alan understood. "He's been sleeping longer?"

A nod. Alan shifted as he avoided looking at the morbidly decorated tree to their right.

"Well, I suppose that's good, but only if Freddy can't get him. He needs to be careful with how much sleep he is getting." 

Michael's shoulders shook as they passed the hill on their left. 

A twitch of Michael's fingers- the way Freddy always does during trials-preceded a wag of a finger and a point to Michael's chest. 

"Freddy doesn't come near you?"

A shake of Michael's head, and a rather smug looking smirk. 

"What about when you're here in a trial? How do you know he's safe?"

Michael mimed out many of the killer's stances- the Huntress' hatchet wind up, his hands mimicking a bear trap both snapping closed- and snapping open-, the rather memorable grasp of a dying breath in a palm, a bell- and Alan nodded his understanding. 

"The others watch over him. I guess it's good that Freddy's the only real threat to him." 

Michael shook his head, pretending to tap something just above his fist before swirling the lower one. Alan gave him a confused look. 

Three attempts later, Michael pointed to Alan, then to his temple. 

"I assume I'll know when I see them." 

A nod. 

Both stared at the hatch that gaped a few feet away, surrounded by corn. Alan stepped forward to enter it, but Michael's hand caught his elbow. Surprised, Alan turned back. 

He couldn't deny the ice that ran through his veins.

Michael pointed at Alan, gave him a thumbs up, then tapped his thumb against his own forehead and held up two fingers before spelling out Quentin's name. 

It took him a moment to remember what the motions were in sign language, but his heart warmed when he realized. 

"Even if Quentin didn't understand through the stress of life, I've  _always_  tried to be a good father to him."

Michael smiled, but there was a knowing look in his eye as Alan shifted his weight.

"I hope you know that this means I will  _always_  worry about him... _well... **being**  with you_." 

A nod. 

Alan took a deep breath as Michael let his arm go. "At least I know he's got someone that's devoted to him- someone that's willing to protect him when I can't."

Michael's grin reminded Alan why he should be frightened of this man, but the shifting grip on the knife reminded him of why he should leave. 

He wished he could say more, but he simply nodded once before turning an taking the alternative escape.  His eyes floated upwards as he fell through the darkness, fixated on the expressionless mask that loomed above as the hatch swung closed. 

Perhaps they could talk more next time.

* * *

 

Jake's brother turned out to be the strangest mix of annoying and hilarious that the campfire could imagine. He and Jake were nearly polar opposites- where Jake was quiet and withdrawn, Alex was talkative and prone to pestering his baby brother. Where Jake sabo'd each hook quietly, Alex was able to track traps and killer belongings better than small game ever could- which had gotten him killed a few times, with his laughter ringing out over a very annoyed Trapper's shoulder.

Hysterically enough, he  _simply could not_  figure out how to do a gen without lighting it up like a Christmas Tree. 

It was always amusing when he was paired in with Angie- Meg's mother- who excelled in stealth and repair. 

Nancy was the oddball who became the nightmare of an end game- possessing perks to give her a sixth sense for hexes and skin-of-the-teeth escapes- both her own through the hatch and others from the killer's shoulders. 

Alan was keenly aware of the other survivors in a trial, working well with Claudette and Dwight to ensure everyone made it out alive. He had smiled sadly when his third perk- one that revealed his penchant for flashlights, much to Nancy's delight- was compared to Quentin's adeptness for scrounging up halfway decent medkits. 

Dean was fast friends with David, becoming a second terror to any killers wishing to hang a victim with his ability to find injured survivors on a Killer's shoulder.

Kris was rather well-rounded young lady, with more perks to assist with escaping a chase. She and Kate became the ultimate 'gal pals', as dubbed by Kate herself. 

Overall, they all fit in well with the rest of the group. 

Perhaps that's what pissed off the Entity in the end. Perhaps it was the sheer level of toxicity that some- like Meg, Tapp, and David- had begun to show. Perhaps it was the cockiness that came with surviving more, outclassing the killers with new survivor perks and no killer perks to balance it out. 

It was an abnormally dark trial when the survivors were introduced to the newest form of torture. 

It had been a normal trial- up until Nancy caught sight of a fifth survivor, shrugging and talking to the Wraith with seemingly no regard for their life. She had never a survivor with a blue jacket and a grey beanie, but the laughter that rang out had her gasping with the familiarity of a voice that could only come from the bloodstained clothes.

Quentin's confusion as just as potent as the Wraith's, but he still managed to giggle at the fact he had been 'refunded'. Upon realizing Meg was being a total prick with her chases, Quentin realized why he was in the trial-  

The Entity wanted the killers to have an advantage over the less sportsmanlike survivors, but couldn't justify requiring two more gens without leveling the playing field for the survivors in some way.

And so Quentin was added back into the mix as a survivor with no obligation to help those that had harmed him- A biased neutral.

Nancy had  _never_  seen Quentin as mischievous as she had seen him in that trial- he was even going so far as to drop a pallet on Meg's head mid-chase, offering her up to Phillip on a golden platter!

Meg had cursed him out as he theatrically relaxed on the mass of bricks in the courtyard of Crotus Penn Asylum, with Phillip leaning on the other side to laugh as the two gossiped.

Once she died, Quentin was closer to a ghost than an active survivor. Tapp had quickly decided not to play his usual game of stalk the killer, choosing instead to actually work on generators and be productive. 

With a lesson quickly learned, Quentin had extra time on his hands- he had delivered a rather nice medkit to Nancy, helped her finish a gen, saved her from a hook, and disappeared like a specter each time she turned her head. She never saw him 'at work' until the gates were open and NOED had forced Nea to the ground.

David was 'playfully' taunting the Wraith away from his prize, giving Quentin the smallest of windows to bolt out from behind a rock and pull Nea to her feet. 

It happened so fast that Nancy barely managed to step out of the way of the fleeing survivors, lingering only until they felt David's presence leave through a surprising Rancor. To her disappointment, his laughter faded with his body when they crossed the boundary. 

The implication was clear- even with his survivor role tentatively re-established, he would remain at the killer fire. 

Where  _killers_  belonged. 

She curled up and sobbed into Kris' shoulder, mourning for both her- friend? boyfriend? ex? -and the hope she had held to speak to him without the threat of death on their shoulders clear up until the start of her next trial.  

* * *

 

To be honest, Quentin rather  _liked_  pulling double duty. He  _enjoyed_  Mori-ing David Tapp- accidentally doing so in front of Dean, who was horrified and proud at the same time, considering how Tapp had done nothing other than follow Quentin the entire match- only to rat the officer out to Sally the very next trial. 

He  _enjoyed_  giving Evan hell in the storehouse, looping him as Kris watched in amazement. 

He  _enjoyed_  making Freddy eat pallets for seven generators. 

He  _enjoyed_  Laurie's screams as the Entity took her off his hooks for her sacrifice, cursing him for 'accidentally' dropping her on the way to the hook. 

Most of all, he  _adored_ the trial he got with Nancy, Kris, Dean, Alan, and Michael. 

The utter excitement radiating from Quentin was  ** _tangible_  **that trial. 

Alan thought the others were joking when he was told of the strangely flirtatious animosity between the lovers during their time as killer and survivor. This time, the father watched Michael chase his son around Haddonfield with a determination that terrified him-

Watching helplessly as Michael killed those who dared to even _block Quentin from his line of sight_. 

It was the first time Alan died to Michael's sacrifice. 

Just before his life ended on the hook, he watched in horror as Quentin was downed by the hood of the police car.

The boyish giggle that escaped Quentin betrayed Michael's true intentions just before Quentin's back slammed against the hood of the permanently disabled car. The giggles turned into a pleased hum as the pale mask came off, forcing a rather uncomfortable Alan to watch what would inevitably become something sexual. Making a decision in the name of his own sanity, he struggled against the hook with a heavy sigh. 

Quentin's eyes met his father's as his teeth bit into his bottom lip.

It did  _nothing_  to cover the wide grin on his lips. 

Michael's hand turning Quentin's face back to him  _did_  though, and Alan couldn't bring himself to feel disturbed as their kiss was the second-to-last thing he saw that trial.

Quentin's arms snaking around Michael's shoulders wasn't even the most disturbing thing.

It was- hands down- Michael.

It was horrifying to watch that 6'9 monster straightened his back, grinning like a demon as he plunged his knife into Quentin's diaphragm.

The Entity seemed to come much slower, forcing Alan to watch the way Quentin's scream dissolved into a moan that was promptly collected by Michael's lips. 

He would never forget the whimper that echoed through Haddonfield as the knife was forced upwards, only to be removed with a sharp pull and reinserted with another forceful plunge. 

Alan could hear the hood of the car caving under the pressure.

He allowed the Entity to take him without a secondary struggle as Quentin's blood dripped off the hood of the car, spreading exponentially with each plunge of the knife to paint the pristine surface a garish red. 

* * *

 

Anna was  _amused_. 

It was a 'punishment trial'- one where Quentin joined the survivor ranks- and _by the_   _grass on mother earth_  he was in rare form. 

He had knocked Meg unconscious by pushing her off a balcony as she t-bagged the huntress, earning a thumbs up from the murderess as she watched from below. He had purposefully blown a gen with Tapp's hand inside it, shredding the skin and breaking the bone- he hadn't done a gen the entire trial, hoping to steal extra points with tapping the last two. He had frightened Laurie as she poised with her decisive, causing her to drop the shard of glass. He had tripped David after he had looped the Huntress around the killer shack for too long. 

Now, as the last survivor standing, he was  _daring_  to  ** _immerse_** _!_

She was doing her damndest to track him, but she only found the ghost of a giggle, or the pumping of a half-finished gen. 

He would need to complete one more before opening the gates, but he  _simply would not go for the hatch!_

Instead, she patrolled the remaining generators with a mischievous grin. 

She knew how to lead him out. 

She went to her basement, standing in a corner and constantly reminding herself not to hum. 

The gen popped across the map. 

He didn't leave. 

Instead- after several minutes- he poked his head around the stairs. 

He shrieked when he almost took a hatchet to the face. 

He ran her around like a pro, laughing and doing his damnedest to give her as much trouble as possible. 

 _Finally_ , he met the dirt with a hatchet dangerously close to his spine. She scooped him up- bridal style, causing him to burst into laughter and support himself with arms around her neck- and carried his squirmy butt all the way to the basement. 

She had forgotten how cute his whimper of pain was. Like a wolf cub keening for the mother's milk.

Trotting up the stairs proudly, she froze dead when the entity whispered in her ear- he had  _unhooked himself! HOW?!_

The chase resumed until Quentin dove for the hatch, laughing like a maniac. 

The noogie she administered at the fire was almost as awe-inspiring as the pout that Quentin gave when Michael refused to help him. 

Max was enthralled with the new way he had found to show affection. 

As the first victim of Max's noogie, Bubba was  _certainly_  not amused. 

* * *

 

Nancy was unconcerned when the killer had hooked two- Jeff and Nea- within the first gen.

The next two gens went quickly- even if she had felt  _particularly_  tired after each gen popped, waving it off as a side effect of her imposed insomnia, or her concentration from the sheer number of skill checks the Entity was throwing at her- with only Adam and Jake hooked once a piece by the fourth gen's completion. 

When the fifth gen popped under her hands, she quickly turned to where 'Jake' had been hooked across the map. She blinked in confusion, turning her head to stare at Jake as he cleansed a nearby totem.

Nowhere  _near_  his apparent aura. 

Seconds later, the hooked survivor's aura disappeared. 

Her blood ran cold. 

_Didn't Quentin have a perk that showed auras after the fifth gen?_

That was so not good.

With the sixth gen halfway finished, Nea was downed with a loud swear- followed quickly by Jake, who was apparently near Nea when she met the earth. He had probably dropped a hook in front of their killer.

Nancy looked toward the location where the downed survivors were in confusion when the tagger suddenly died, followed pathetically quickly by Jake. 

Her blood ran cold. The killer was actually using a mori.

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her ears as she moved to where she had last seen the pair's auras. 

She had to be certain.

The headless corpses had her hands pressed against her mouth, trying not to vomit at the gruesome sight. 

This wasn't a mori she knew. 

Jeff was downed and killed in the killer shack, so close to a nearly completed gen. 

She found Adam after the sixth gen popped. They hid together in the cluster of trees close to the Mother's Dwelling, breathing carefully as they made their way upstairs. Nancy looped around to take the far side as Adam couched just outside the door. 

She frowned as each successful skill check regressed the gen. 

She did her damndest to stay quiet when Adam was promptly ripped off the gen, too terrified to move as the teacher tried to push himself upright- to scramble away from the paper cutter blade that was closing in on his throat.  

The blade swung so fast her mind could only process the flash of light that buried itself into Adam's throat- the look of horror on his face as the metal was yanked out, only turned to terrified sorrow when the second swing came. Adam's eyes had lost focus by the third swing, and she couldn't bring herself to look away as his head fell backward. 

His body followed seconds later. 

She could hear the blade hitting rubber and the muffled sound of a boyish giggle. Remaining still, she held her breath. 

To her horror, a pale and gripped the edge of the cabin. A porcelain white mask with black accents stared back at her, frozen for several seconds. 

"Oh.... well shit."

Quentin.

Her Quentin was decapitating their friends.

Nancy fainted on the spot. 

* * *

 

Quentin honestly felt bad. He knew Nancy would be  _more_  than freaked out when she awoke.

Nancy's head was currently resting on his thigh, and Quentin was absently running his hand through her hair as she slept. He had carried her to where the hatch was, choosing to sit where the sound wasn't deafening, but could still clearly be heard to wait for her to reawaken. Hoping she would react less violently if she didn't see the mask, he had removed it and placed it beside his blade- well out of arm's reach. 

When her consciousness returned, he realized it didn't help as much as had hoped it would.

Nancy had still shot upright, scrambling away as he raised his hands in a surrendering pose. "It's alright! I won't hurt you! It's just me!"

"Won't hurt me? You killed them all Quentin-  _You cut their heads off!"_

She looked terrified, and it hurt Quentin's very soul.

"That doesn't mean I'm going to hurt you! I'd  _never_  try to hurt you, Nancy." His hands rested on his thighs now, with a frown on his face and an honest look in his eyes.

Nancy's own look was nothing but a mix of disbelief and fear as she tried to bring her trembling body back under her control. "Why? What's so different between Adam and I? Or Nea and I?"

Quentin sighed, giving her a pleading look. He made certain not to move, worried he would frighten her even more, or agitate the already hysterical breathing that caught in her chest. "I haven't loved  _them_  since grade school. I didn't  _grow up_  with them, I didn't go through all the Freddy  _bullshit_  with them-" 

Nancy did her best to bite back the growing hysteria in her voice. She knew deep down she was overstressed and snapping at Quentin due to the scares of the trial, but she couldn't stop herself  _or_  the tears spilling over her cheeks... It was just too much.

"Loved me since-  _Quentin-_ You're literally  _killing_   _people_  to be with a man you  _barely know_ , but you say you  _love me?!"_

Quentin frowned, reaching out to take her hand in his own. "I  _do_  love you Nancy. Loving Michael as well doesn't affect the way I feel about you." 

She pulled her hand away, using the sleeves of her cardigan to dry her tears as best she could before wrapping the loose edges around herself, staring back at him. She couldn't find the strength to do anything but sob- exhausted, frightened, and overwhelmed with her situation, crumbling under the blue eyes she had fallen for.

She flinched when a gentle thumb slipped across her cheek to clear the renewing teardrops. " _I still love you Nancy_ - and I still love Michael. You were one of the first to know my..." Even with her hysterical state, she still found the flush across Quentin's cheeks adorable. "uh... well, my sexuality-  _mostly because of Dean-"_

The amused huff did nothing to comfort her as Quentin continued "-But It doesn't mean that you're any less to me than you were before I met Michael. It's not like I've become a whole different person-"

Nancy felt the shame rise in her chest when the tears wouldn't stop. "That's not what I'm  _saying_  Quentin!"

"Then what  _are_  you saying?" His look was becoming more concerned by the second, but she wouldn't allow herself to lay back in his arms- no matter how much she wanted to bury her face in his chest and sob until she passed out again.

Something deep in her soul wouldn't let her. Even if the timing was bad, she  _had_  to get this  _out of her head!_  

He gave her a sad smile. "Take a minute and collect your thoughts Nancy. You're still all sorts of scared and I don't understand what you want me to say."

It was a good idea. 

She took several minutes to gather herself, rubbing her eyes and trying to regain her senses. When the tears finally stopped, she was left with shuddering breaths, but a less muddled brain. "You barely know this man Quentin. There's... there's  _no way_  you can love him yet. But, you're already dedicated enough to this- this  _relationship_ \- to slaughter your  _friends!_ For  ** _him!"_**

Quentin smiled knowingly. "Nancy, I think you're confusing the love I feel for him with the love I feel for you. This..."

He hesitated. 

He sighed.

"I know I'll never marry Michael. I know I won't grow old with him, have a family with him, share the more important moments in my life- he's not capable of sharing that with me. The Entity made sure of that-"

 ** _"Then why be with him?!"_**   They both winced when she shouted, but her immediate recoil drove both their eyes to the ground for a moment.

She could feel his eyes burning into her soul.

After a long pause, she looked up to meet his gaze. Her pleading look earned a different kind of smile. 

"Because I don't think I can ever get out of here Nancy. You guys still might- you guys don't have the Entity's focus on you. With everything that's gone on, I know it will  ** _never_  **let me leave. That, combined with how everything has changed with Michael and I-"

He shifted his weight, fiddling with the least-bloody sleeve on his jacket.  

"I might not love him like I love you, Nancy, But I  _do_  love him. You- you're like the Olympian flame. You're someone I've loved for so long, it's self-sustaining by now- you're never going to lose your place in my heart. Michael- he's a spark. He's an ember of a flame that landed in a coal shaft and ignited it."

Nancy grimaced at the mental image. "And you consider that to be love?"

Quentin shrugged. "It's a type of love." 

That answer drew a rage in her heart, rearing up like a snake preparing to bite. Nancy immediately shook her head in disagreement. "That's a  _fling,_ Quentin!" 

It took Quentin a moment to respond. "Every love begins as a  _fling_ , Nancy. My feelings for you began with a boyhood crush, and it grew- my feelings for Michael just grew way faster than my feelings for you did. It was a few hundred trials, not a few years."

Nancy huffed, wiping the remaining tears. "You sound like a crazy person Quentin. You're just making  _excuses_  to be with him."

Quentin sighed. "Maybe I am, but it's the only reason I have to give you- other than that, I'm just with him because  _I want to be with him-_  He makes me happy, even if it's completely fucked up considering everything he's done to my friends and I." 

Nancy pushed herself to her feet, shaking her head the entire time. 

Quentin frowned again. "Please stop shaking your head at me- I know what I'm doing to myself."

"No. No you don't- and this is all Freddy's fault in the end." The look in her eye was not one Quentin expected to see from her- pity. For some reason, it stung him more than her words did.

"Nancy, Freddy has nothing to do with Mich-"

"Oh yes he does! The others have told me how you would fall asleep in his trials, Quentin! He's- oh god, what's that one dude's name? The psychology dog guy?"

Quentin tilted his head before he straightened his back slightly. "...Are you trying to say Michael  _Pavlov'ed me into sucking his dick?"_

Nancy flinched. "I _really_  don't want to hear you say that..."

Quentin stood at that point, ignoring how she reflexively took a step closer- however, he did take a step back. "I think this isn't a good time to have this conversation. You're...understandably shaken up by what you saw, and you need a bit of time to-" 

"Don't even start that Quentin. You act like I won't see worse in here!"

"Oh, you  _will_  see worse. Just wait till Lisa gets ahold of someone." His grin was morbid and shy in the same gesture. 

Nancy stared for a long moment, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. "Maybe we're both being crazy right now."

Another indifferent shrug. It was beginning to piss her off even more. "Maybe- Can I ask you one question though?"

Nancy looked up from her sleeves. 

"Have you actually  _met_  Michael? Not the 'all business, here to kill' Michael- but the one that trips Nea during chases, or gets distracted by the moon on the Asylum, or tries to slip flowers into Claudette's hair when she's downed. Have you met  _him?"_

Nancy stared back in confusion and amazement- But Quentin could see the thought inside her head. 

_'There's no way that monster could be like that.'_

Quentin laughed his bell-chime laugh. "Then you haven't met  _my_  Michael- we should talk again when you have."

She watched him from her place beside the hatch as Quentin lifted his blade without any further acknowledgment. 

At this moment, she could see nothing more than a murderer's back to her- shifting its grip on its weapon and donning its mask with one hand. 

Back at the campfire, Nancy buried her head in Dean's side and wept until she didn't have enough oxygen left to keep her conscious.  

* * *

 

At his own fire, Quentin ignored the majority of cheers from his newly bloodied clothing. His lover's gaze sliding up his body was more than enough of a distraction, but the hand that led him toward Haddonfield was almost as satisfying as the lips that met his own beside the Pumpkin on the Porch.


	18. The Oldest Point of View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to some questions on accents from my Tumblr, Evan's accent shall be formally explained here! 
> 
> I see Evan as a man from the early-mid 1800's whose father definitely pushed past the 'tamed' part of the Americas in order to make a name for himself. (As explained by the sheer number of trees still on his property- no way this is in the civilized part of society in early America.) 
> 
> I would say he was probably from Wyoming or Kentucky (Because coal is heavily prevalent there in the US, and the transcontinental railroad is fairly close to both), but his accent would be naturally tarnished by a more coastal Pennsylvania accent due to coal distribution patterns of the time and having to converse with his customers.
> 
> Accompanying that, we also have to realize that he simply *must* have some rough linguistics training with the other killers, considering he's been in the fog the longest- he would have gained a heavy southern edge from Maxie and Bubba, loosing much of that 19th century colloquialism in preference for terms that would be far more understandable to the newer killers coming into the fog. 
> 
> In short, my Evan is a man acknowledging his lifetime is far past him and trying to ensure he remains understandable to the others around him, but sometimes slips into that more elegant syntax that has been lost for centuries. Old habits are hard to break- just ask anyone trying not to slip into the accent they grew up with!
> 
> ...now i want to write our trappy boi.

In its totality, I didn't  _mind_ the way my life had turned out. 

Yes, I have regrets. I have regrets so pungent that sometimes I laid awake at night, watching Phillip's chest rise and fall while doubting my place beside such a perfect man. 

I regret killing all those employees.

I regret accepting the entity's offer, unintentionally leaving my beloved father to an undeniablyslow, torturous death. 

I regret allowing my overworked delusions to cloud my rationale- to darken my desire to protect the man that had given me everything, even life itself.

I regret never telling my father of my draw to men, even if I still found women attractive. 

I know now that back then, I was just a scared boy that was trapped in a man's body- petrified of the consequences behind my father's declining health. 

Even with all these regrets, I knew there was one thing I was not-

A man that _gave up._

I had fallen as low as possible, had tasted the earthen palette of shame, and pushed myself back to my feet to protect what I could-  

I knew I  _had_ to do it the first time I had met Maxie. 

The boy was terrified after his first trial, having killed two by his own hand without an offering and enraging the Entity. He hadn't understood his role. 

I had seen myself in that deformed babe, swaddled in blood and terror, malnourished and gangly as if he was plucked from the darkest pit of hell. 

I saw what could have been, if my father wasn't such a wonderful man. 

To this boy, I could be what my father was to me. 

I had stepped in front of the Entity's ire, and it had punished me severely in his place. The lacerations were for interrupting, the metal embedded in my body was a lesson for all to witness. 

Do not fail. 

Max was trembling near a confused Nymph when I was returned to the fire. 

I still remember seeing  _him_ for the first time. The _truest_ embodiment of a nymph- of Pan's precious Pitys- highlighted in the crimson gold of the fire. Those luminescent moons set above his cheekbones settled on my now broken form as long hands covered his mouth, looking on in horror at what I had become. 

The next moment he was beside me, needing only two long strides before settling at my waist. I will never forget how deceptively soft those wood-crusted hands were as they gently tugged on the metal.

It was quickly realized they were now a characteristic of my very being. 

He quickly stood and disappeared, and in that moment I thought the horror of the punishment had chased him away. I had already begun to mourn for the loss of Pitys.

My heart skipped a beat when he returned with the leaves of various foliage, crushing them against his palm with his thumb and carefully pushing them into my wounds. 

I did my best to sit still through the pain of my wounds being cleansed, instead focusing on the soft purr that came from an obstructed windpipe.

To this day, I am still convinced it is the verbalizations of both Phillip's sweet laughter and his eternal cries of despair, marrying into a single noise that is commanded by him alone.

Within moments, the pain was manageable. That is all it would ever be. 

In that single act of bravery- stupidity?- to protect Maxie, I knew I had struck a chord within him. 

I quickly understood the silent pact to protect him. In a special way, I now had a son of my own- 

One who was terrified of people. One who barely understood spoken words. One who was wholly uneducated. One who obviously had been neglected and abused in the worst possible ways. 

It had taken a while to earn his trust, but I quickly discovered why The Entity took Maxie- he was a _primal **beast**_ in trials. He ran faster than I had ever seen a human run, even while lofting a chainsaw above his head and giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush. 

Pitys and I quickly decided to teach him 'games'. It certainly expedited the process of getting Maxie to become a willing participant in the trials. 

In the downtime with Maxie's trials, I finally learned Pitys' true name- Phillip. 

I can still remember the way it rolled off my tongue the first time I had tasted the name in my mouth. I still remember the way his eyes had closed as he smiled, tilting his head in the barest of degrees.

In that moment, I knew I had fallen for him.

The next trial, Sally joined us. 

She had detested Max at first. I didn't need to see her eyes to hear the fear in her voice- something terrible had happened to this specter. I sent Maxie to Phillip's arms as I explained the rules of the 'game' to our newest member. 

Sally had introduced herself with a familiar respect, then collapsed into weeping sobs. I offered her my unmarred shoulder, and she had accepted it gratefully. 

After she collected herself, I told her the little information I had on the others and their entry to the Fog. 

She understood quickly, and shared her own life story. She was the first whose story I understood in totality.

When I returned to the fire, it was obvious it had been several trials- Phillip looked drained, and Max was a mess. Without hesitation, Sally pulled herself to her feet- or, rather, just above them- and drew herself up with all of her pride. 

Then she apologized to Max for her previous behavior. 

She and Max quickly settled into a (one-sidedly hesitant) friendship.

She fit in well, giving Phillip and I more time to learn about and teach our Maxie. By this point, he was learning words faster than a professional Gandy Dancer could drive rail ties. He would tell us small snippets of his life, and the three of us quickly realized his entire world was the small room beneath the Thompson house. 

It made the fact that the Entity had recreated it on _every_  territory with four indestructible (and quite dull) hooks even more grotesque.

What was once Maxie's prison was now the Survivors' darkest fear. 

Michael came to us next. 

He was even more curious than Maxie.

I gave him the general information over the next few trials, and I knew he was listening when his head tilted. I assumed he was mute, and he simply nodded his agreement. 

I introduced him to Phillip, who was estatic to have a partner in silence. Michael absorbed sign language like a dry sponge. It only took ten minutes for Max to be enthralled as well, leaving Phillip with a study group as I took the next trial.

When I came back, Michael was investigating one of my traps. 

I chuckled as I sat beside him, accepting the fact that I now had another 'son'. 

If only I had known how true this would be back then. 

I had watched Michael come so far during his time in the fog. He had made hesitant friends with the ever-absent doctor, who giggled each time the former psychological inmate would grace the halls of the asylum he lingered in. He allowed Anna to rest him against her chest, rigid for the first few moments of the soft humming and gentle hands kneading his shoulders. He began to linger more often than not, simply basking in the sounds of others relaxing around him. 

It was actually his interference that finally prompted me to go for a walk with Phillip.

Michael's constant stares whenever Phillip and I sat near each other quickly became a prompter for knowing glances- especially when Phillip would ask a particular question that got me ... _talkative_.

Even as a boy, I tended to get absorbed in speech- it was even worse with those hypnotically white eyes locked with my own, listening intently to every word I said. 

When I got like this, Sally would quietly coax Maxie away for a game of hide and seek. Michael would lead Anna and Lisa away to- well, do whatever they did when they disappeared to one of their realms.

To my greatest dishonor, I never bothered to ask. I was always too preoccupied with Phillip, or distracted by the admittedly euphoric fluttering in my stomach after we had been forced to part.

Over time, he began to linger on my estate more. I knew he detested his own realm, but I hadn't known why. 

I would never forget the evening we chose to confide in each other. 

Phillip and I were walking past the pit that held my shame, and it was then that I paused. With a heavy sigh, I asked Phillip if he wanted to know why I was here- why I was under the Entity's thumb. 

Silent as ever, he took me by the hand and shrugged his indifference. _It wouldn't matter to him if I told him or not._

He turned a single knowing glance toward the rubble that served as a tombstone for so many. My stomach churned with shame. 

I took a breath, and I told him. 

He stood before me, holding my hand the entire time I spoke. In my heart, I knew that  _he_ knew how _badly_ I needed him to know what I had done.

Once I was finished, he carefully lifted the mask off my face. The sad smile he gave me as the world shifted around us would never leave my memory. 

I only tore my eyes away as I recognized Phillip's domain. He looked increasingly distraught each second.

I let him hold my mask.

His story took longer to tell, mostly due to his stolen voice forcing him to  _show_ _me_ what he had done, but it was as grotesque as my own. When I saw the tears begin to spill from the corners of his eyes, I pulled him close and forced the Entity to shift us away once more. My ironworks witnessed all his tears, took them as they fell from his cheeks, and used its soil to protect the regret imbued with secrets we shared. 

As his sorrow faded, I realized he still clutched my mask to his chest. He cradled it as if it was something truly precious- it was _almost_ enough to keep my attention from shifting as his lips mouthed a simple 'sorry'.

I wasn't able to ask him what the apology was for-his lips had covered my own. It felt better than I _ever_ could have imagined it to be. It awoke a hunger within me that mirrored itself in Phillip, leaving us desperate for the simple contact. It took no time at all for Phillip's legs to creep over my own, resting his thighs against my chest as his hands caressed my neck and shoulders. 

I clung to him like I was fifteen years younger, fascinated with the feeling of bark creeping up his legs and the firm ridges of his spine under my touch. 

We kissed until we were breathless, panting and more than a little amused at our own desperation. 

He accepted my offer of courtship on the spot.

I would only find out later that Michael was the reason we were left uninterrupted for so long, choosing to discard his usual distance in the name of giving Phillip and I some alone time. 

Even though we tried to maintain privacy over the next few trials, it quickly became apparent that neither of us understood _how to do so-_ It didn't seem to bother our newest recruit, Bubba Sawyer. Instead, he seemed to enjoy the oddly familial air that had taken over the killer campfire.

By the time Amanda joined our ranks, we had to explain to Maxie- in a rather grueling conversation- what love was, and why Phillip was so prone to holding my hand in his own when we sat together. Thankfully we had managed to keep our more intimate kisses to our walks through my estate. 

Michael had become quite enthusiastic about giving us private time, often tilting his head with a quick glance to Phillip. I would deny his question every time, prompting a huff and what I knew would be an eye roll. He quickly figured out how to convince Anna to play with Maxie. giving Phillip and I even more time to ourselves.

Granted, it still was once every few hundred trials where we could truly afford to sneak off for _any_ extended period of time, but we appreciated what we could get.  

This simple pleasure became rarer when Freddy joined the campfire, as he would frequently pester Phillip and I due to our unofficial status as leaders. I found his disgust for our relationship hypocritical at best, considering what the Entity told me of his past. 

Oddly enough, this was around the time Phillip and I began to share a bed. Perhaps that was an unintentional antagonization on our part, but Freddy's opinion of our coupling was the last thing on my mind when my sweet Pitys finally followed me into my room.

Naturally, this respect with Michael was returned when Michael returned to the survivor camp with the victim of Freddy's attention.

This boy- the one who served as Michael's nymph, drawing him like a moth to a flame-was to be  _protected._

I took to annoying Freddy as he had annoyed me those first thousand trials. Phillip gleefully joined me, often intruding on ' _his_ _'_ land to simply sightsee. Using Amanda's words, this 'annoyed the piss' out of Freddy, making him less of a presence at our fire in the name of protecting his territory.  

This closer attention to the disagreeable man tipped me off to an interesting fact- Freddy and Kenneth were growing rather 'close', despite their obvious disgust for each other. I hadn't hesitated to warn Quentin and Michael of this possible danger, and it came in handy when Freddy broke into Michael's home to harass him. 

I swear I had nearly died with laughter to learn of Quentin's mischevious flirtations while Freddy had bled out. Phillip tried to scold them both, but failed miserably as his own growling giggles ruined the stern lecture.

Quentin quickly became one of my boys as well. He was endlessly polite and equally well mannered, serving as an excellent playmate to Bubba and Max. He also was a wonderful bridge between the Legion and the other killers, helping them to integrate in ways they couldn't before. 

He was a gift to our fire, to our Michael. 

Others may doubt the validity of their courtship, but I know the burn of passion better than any- I know that fire is alight between Michael and Quentin, burning brighter than the sun itself. I can see it in the little things they do. 

I can see it in the way Michael holds Quentin as he sleeps, removing his mask to press his lips to Quentin's head. I can see it in the way Quentin is able to calm Michael from his rages with only a touch, using that starvation of kindness and touch to his advantage. I can see how they balance one another in ways that others simply couldn't. I can see it in the way they can sit in perfect silence, simply basking in the other's presence. I can see it in the way they both withdraw from the group, with only the calmed embers of adoration in their gaze. 

Michael is tamed by Quentin's mild spirit. 

Quentin is drawn out of his self-hatred and shame by Michael's devotion. 

It is simple, but it is pure. 

Perhaps that is why the readhead-  _Meg_ , as I finally learned her name- is so against their courtship. It is a beacon of light in the darkness- one that reminds her of all she had lost. It only grew worse when her mother was added into the trials, and it took none less than a fool to know she blamed Quentin for the elder Thomas' appearance. 

The trial where she snapped still came as a surprise.

I had been chasing her around the main building, hoping she would try to vault the window I had trapped earlier. To my annoyance, she went up the stairs instead of vaulting. Quentin had been watching from above, watching passively until it was safe enough to return to his gen without being in the way. 

Seeing the oncoming track-star, he stepped to the side to give her room to pass. 

In my eyes, the world seemed to slow as she screeched her frustration at moving too fast to properly adjust for Quentin on the catwalk as well. 

"Could you just  _move?!"_ echoed through the Ironworks, accenting the soft _thump_ of her hand against his chest.

I instinctually lunged-

Not for her. For the boy I had been protecting. 

I wasn't fast enough, and I watched him tumble the two stories to the ground, his back to the ground and unable to right himself during the freefall. 

I never saw him hit the concrete. The Entity had swallowed the trial whole. 

My mind was still processing what I witnessed when the lording darkness cleared, revealing our small group. I felt my heart chill as the seemingly omnipotent fog stared into my soul. 

I could feel its anger. I could feel Its annoyance. It was suffocating.

It was  _familiar._

My heart clenched in my chest-  _it was going to punish them._

I couldn't look away from the uncountable charcoal eyes of the darkness, but I could hear Meg's terrified whimpers- they were quickly muffled. 

At least she knew not to whimper before the Entity- it detested the sound.

The Entity tremored around us, and I felt my body betray the barest tremble of response beneath the weight of its anger.  

I heard a strange sound after that- one that finally drew my eyes from the mass before us. 

The noise was Quentin's agitated huff, sounded as he glared at one of the many spikes that drew deceased survivors into the sky. 

I knew the surprised noise was my own when I realized his arms were protectively wrapped around Meg, whose muffled whimpers were not by her own hands, but by Quentin's jacket. 

She looked just as surprised as I knew I did. 

Quentin just maintained his resistance, scowling. "This is between _Meg_ and _I_ , not _you_ and _us_. We still play your games."

When the Entity wrapped itself around the two, I snapped out of my terror to speak up. I couldn't allow one of my boys to get hurt. "Please, allow me to talk to them _both._ Let me explain the lesson  _I_ learned befor-" 

The daggers were at _my_ throat now, and Quentin looked surprised. I continued, making sure to keep my hands at my sides. Heaven forbid it thought I would go against it physically once more. 

" _They don't understand,_  It's the _same_ reason I took the punishment for Max- Allow me to explain the rules clearly, to settle this issue between both of them so Trials are no longer impeded."  I had to stop making my plea, as the dagger of an appendage continued to tighten around my body. 

I could see Quentin's concern growing from his capture beside me. He winced, his eyes glancing down toward his arm-

The Entity was digging into his arm, trying to get him to release Meg. 

He held her tighter. 

Both looked appropriately terrified, and I saw Meg's gaze fall to the metal barbed through my body as realization overtook her eyes. 

The Entity's anger was still thicker than molasses, but _slowly,_ it's grip lessened over the course of several breaths.

I took it as permission to speak. "You know I explained everything to Max, and look how much better he is. You _know_ I can explain it to them." 

I had to suck a breath in through my teeth as a flash of burning pain went through my very soul. The twin yelps beside me was a discomforting confirmation that the two survivors had received the same warning. 

We were dropped- not deposited,  _dropped_ from a solid _ten feet_ \- back to the fire.

Anna looked surprised, but the blood smeared around us had everyone pausing. 

Phillip was at my side in moments, pulling his small pouch from his cloak. He always kept those leaves on his person now, prepared to help whomever obtained the Entity's ire. 

I nodded him toward Quentin first, covering my side in a clear message-  _him first._

Meg was still sitting in shock, looking around all the faces she knew only by terror, making her way back to Quentin-

Who was being utterly  _pampered_ by Phillip. Quentin was promptly pulled into Phillip's lap, his jacket discarded and the paste meeting the molten cut with a hiss of pain. Phillip was cooing at the boy, his free hand running through Quentin's hair while he outright nuzzled the top of his head. 

Spare bandages were helpfully supplied by Sally, who helped wrap the now-eternal wound across Quentin's upper arm. 

Just before the bandages were applied, I got a good look in the light of the fire. 

It was a deep cut, nearly to the bone and cleaving into the upper arm. It bled profusely, only ceasing when the paste finally killed the cells on the surface of the wound. 

I met Quentin's gaze, and all he offered was a soft smile. 

I sighed.

My boy was already learning bad habits from me.


	19. Settling In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really liked last chapter (with the pov of Evan), sooooo im gonna do that again with not Evan! Why not? :D
> 
> Is this chap extremely late? Yes. Will the next one be late? Proooobably

It was cold again...

That means Ev-an is back! 

Ev-an would have a story!

I immediately stood, but then I realized- Ev-an wasn't in the trees.

I immediately looked around, looking for him before I heard the 'woosh'.

Ev-an fell from the sky.

He was all bloody- he was hurt?! I didn't do a bad this time, why is he hurt?! 

Quin-tin fell quickly after, holding Red- damnit, Mug!

I gotta stop an' think of what Ev-an told me.

_Names are important._

_Mug_ fell with Ev-an and Quin-tin.

Fill-up was already with 'em, looking over Ev-an. 

He was quickly pointed to Quin-tin.

Quin-tin was bleedin'...

Mike-L would be mad. He was _scary_ when he was mad.

I want to go inside... but Quin-tin wouldn't go inside 'f I was hurt. HE'd 'elp me.

Sooooo... I gotta fix 'em!

I took one step before I felt Bub tugging on my hand. 

He looked scared. 

Dammit! 

I giggled to myself- I liked that word. Ev-an said it when he stepped on one of his snappy traps, and I had learned that'un real quick!

But anyway, I had to protect Bub first- Ev-an and Fill-up could fix Quin-tin and Red- Mug! Damnit! 

I sat back down, putting one of my arms around Bub's back. 

He always put one around my shoulders when I was told I gotta sit, but I couldn't hold my arm way up high like he could- not sideways anyways. 

I saw Fill-up go pick up Quin-tin, lookin' at a bad cut in his arm. 

That mark looked fam-il-i-rrr.

I knew I was grinnin' cause Bub looked...

I looked back to Ev-an, hopin' he would notice how con-... uh... con-fuse-duh he looked.

Bub started smilin' at me real slow like, so I probably was grinnin' super big.

I get to grin! Words are hard! Fill-up's gonna be proud!

The more I stared, the more I noticed that Quin-tin's arm looked like Ev-an's back.

I feel scare't again. 

Had Quin-tin made the boss mad?

Red- oh _damnit!_ Mug! Mug had a bad ouchie on her tummy. 

I looked to Bub, making sure to ask super quietly. 

"Did Quin-tin hurt Red-..." I sighed and said damnit real quiet-like. "-Mug?"

Bub shrugged, but I could feel the scared bouncing around his belly and makin' him shiver. 

Quin-tin didn't even whimper when Fill-up rubbed his arm raw wit' that cleaney cloth. 

Right before his arm was wrapped up, Mike-L came from the fog. Bub pressed his butt closer to my butt. 

He was scare't of Mike-L too.

I like Mike-L when he's _sittin'_.

When he walks, he's weird an' quick- Ev-an said it was cause he was tall, but _Ev-an_ is tall and _he_ don't move like that...

He skidded over to Quin-tin like that one birdy I saw when I played with maw and paw.

Quin-tin just smile't at him. 

Re- _Mug_ just pressed her butt against the tree behind Quin-tin.

Was she scare't of Mike-L too?

Ev-an's voice was all smooth when he talked. "I think we can all use some calming down before we talk. How about we meet back here in five trials?"

Mike-L didn't even give Ev-an any of his... aah-ten-tee-on. 'E just picked up Quin-tin and used that weird smooth walk again. The fog had swallow't him up in two blinks, but I still saw Quin-tin push his mouth up against Mike-L's neck.  

R- _Mug_ was left sittin' by Ev-an, who just took a moment to sigh all heavy an' let his head ker-thump against a tree. 

Fill-up took to curlin' under his arm, bein' all close to look at the marks the boss had made this time. 

Ev-an was bleedin' all over, but Fill-up kept touching the one on his neck- it was bleedin' real bad. It took a bit for it to stop. 

As soon as Ev-an was patched up, he was standin' and comin' over to me an' Bub. 

Bub really wanted a hug, but Ev-an was happy to give one. I made sure to keep shut up when he told us 'e was proud tha' we let them have a bit.

I knew I was lightin' up like morning, Bub was givin' me that look again an' he only gives me that grin when I'm grinnin' real big.

Fill-up coaxed...-  _Mug_ _! I finally rember't!_ \- to her feet, an' she follow't us to Ev-an's house. 

Bub was already happy again, so I gave him a good shove- I wanna play now! He needs to _play with me!_

He shoved me back, but it wasn't really a shove... but it was good enough for me! Hide't and Seet time!

* * *

I stayed close to Evan as our boys ran off into the darkness of the woods.

Maxie was such a sweet boy, keeping Junior busy while we got Meg settled. To be honest, it probably wasn't even an act of attempted privacy- he was probably bored, but _something_ in him knew we needed privacy. He wasn't stupid, he was just inexperienced with the intuition of a lion. 

Meg walked slightly ahead of us, climbing the steps to a house that will never appear in a trial- _Our_ house. 

Evan's hand caressed the small of my back, prompting me to press my lips to his shoulder. 

With the sad reality of my sealed voice, I stepped toward the kitchen- I can't talk, but I know how to make a damn good tea from the plants around us!

I could hear Evan settling in the living room with Meg. I knew she would be sitting slowly- had seen her bruises, but there was nothing I could do for them. 

It only took brief minutes for the water to boil, and I added the proper leaves- with a bit of hesitation, I reached for my spice cabinet. 

A bit of sugar and perhaps some nutmeg would be more prudent to calm a weary soul... Maybe some ginger too. Not too much though. I don't want it to overpower the flavor of the tea itself. I reached for the cups to pour it out, then hesitated. 

She's a flighty one. 

She wouldn't drink it if she didn't see me pour it. 

A tray filled with the teapot and three tin cups became my next achievement.

Pleased with my work, I stepped into the tenseness of the living room just as Meg quietly complimented our home. I smiled brightly.

Evan had worked _hard_ to give us something worth living in. 

Countless off-trials had been spent repairing the damage the Entity had caused to the employee houses, giving us a solid roof over our heads-

Giving Max his first bedroom.

Giving me a kitchen I could remember home in. 

It was the physical example of the softer side that my lover hid- the finest example of the lengths he would go to for the comfort of those he saw as his own. 

He had other ways of showing this soft side- it was clear in his unchallenged demeanor. When he was not working, he was calm and polite. He was understanding and compassionate. He was gentle and loving. 

I saw it in the way he 'chastized' our boys- how he often failed at keeping a straight face when they looked so  _pleased_ with themselves, most often covered in gore or mud. 

I saw it in the other killers- in his kinship with the ever-distant Michael, in the rolling eyes of amusement shown by the Legion (They would be ours as well, soon enough. I could feel it in my hollowed bones), in the way all killers-who were not stuck in their ways- turned to him at any given moment for leadership. 

This compassionate side is what makes me so willing to lie in his berth, to rest beneath him and bask in the warmth of his love. To stand beside him and help him raise two grown men from scratch.

I poured the drinks in front of Meg, allowing her to choose her cup first before I gave Evan one of the others. 

A single sip had me purring- It was delicious, as always. I could see how Meg sank deeper into the couch with her own sip, and I knew she felt the same. 

Her shy nod to me had Evan grinning, but he took a drink and shifted so the metal in his back wouldn't bother him too much. 

With the survivor's attention on my lover, I took to keeping our cups full. 

* * *

I truly didn't know what to do anymore. 

I hadn't meant to- to  _kill_ Quentin. I just didn't want him to trip me again!

I didn't want to die _again_ , not when I didn't have to.

Instead, I had forced him over the edge with my own hands- I was the cause of his skull hitting that pipe, sharply turning his head the wrong direction. 

Quentin had died.

Because of _me_.

I took the cup that was offered by the Wraith on instinct alone, my mother's chastising voice in my head.

_Don't be rude Megan. Take what you are offered when you are in someone's home._

My eyes fell to The Trapper. He was relaxed- I had never seen him in such a state- as the Wraith stayed at his side. 

They seemed so docile.

I shivered in my seat- the tea was _delicious_. The Wraith preened so visibly I could imagine the fluffing of a proud bird. 

"Did you mean to?"

My attention was drawn to the right.

Warm brown eyes met my own, and I knew I was staring. 

So... There actually _was_ a man under that mask...

I shook my head as an answer to his question. 

The Trapper nodded his understanding. 

"If you keep this up, the Entity will punish you. Painfully."

I nodded this time, but I hesitated. 

I gripped my cup tighter- My mother didn't raise a coward. I knew how to use my words.

"I know it will. I'm surprised it hasn't already."

The Wraith happily refilled my cup as the Trapper sighed. I continued.

"It has already punished Quentin in its own way, hasn't it? I feel like it cares more about him due to Michael. That's why he became a killer, right?" 

The Trapper shrugged. "I honestly don't know what it's reasoning is. But if it wanted him as a killer, that would have been the end result- no matter his attraction to Michael."

I couldn't bring my eyes off the handcrafted coffee table. "Does he... enjoy it?"

The Trapper shrugged. "I don't know. But I _do_ know he enjoys the fire here- I know he enjoys Anna's cuddling, Phillip's pampering, Michael's attention..." The rest of the sentence was waved off with a hand, but the implication was understandable. 

"It... certainly sounds different than what the survivor fire was like for him." 

The Trapper just nodded as he took another sip. The Wraith practically crawled into his lap to refill his cup.

The way they smiled at each other had me grinning, but I knew with the painful clench in my chest that it didn't meet my eyes. 

I didn't realize they had closed until I felt a rough texture on my chin, lifting my face until my eyes reopened. 

The Wraith looked so upset- when he wiped the wetness from my cheek, I knew why.

I almost reached out to him, but the Trapper's hand caressing the wooden shoulder beat me to it. "Don't get too attached Phillip. You know you can't spare everyone." 

White, seemingly soulless eyes turned to the Earthen ones beside him. Downcast eyes were the result of the mild chastisement, but it was apparently not held against the larger killer- not with the way the Wraith curled himself into the Trapper's side.

I  slowly nodded as I took a deep breath.

"I should talk to Quentin."

The Trapper hummed in response.

"You really should. If this happens again- on any level- the Entity will not show any mercy. This-" He gestured to his body, to all the horrific wounds he had endured. "- Is the only warning the Entity ever gave us. It does not give a third chance."

I swallowed hard. 

But I nodded.

The time for this petty game has passed.

As I stood, the Trapper shifted his seat. "I will admit though, I am looking forward to an actual trial again. You were always a satisfying catch, Meg Thomas."

I couldn't help but laugh, the amused twinkle in his eye was simply too much. "Yeah, I bet I am."

I heard his chuckle as I left, along with the mutter of 'fast as fuck indeed.' 

The Wraith's purring laughter was admittedly cute. 

* * *

I knew my laughter wasn't helping Michael's bad mood, but I truly couldn't help it- Even though I was trembling from my first taste of death in what felt like forever, I knew I was safe in the arms of the man that was carrying me over the threshold of our home.

I knew I was safe in the way his growing stubble scratched against my throat, drawing the softest of groans as I unclenched my digits from the claw I had made around his shoulders.

I barely processed his movement until he suddenly loomed above me- especially with the grip he had on my hips causing an unexpected twinge of excitement pulsing through my veins. 

His eyes locked with mine as my breath froze. 

I saw everything in him shift at once. 

Those same hands that carefully carried me to our bed now caressed the curve of my sides, traveling upwards to make bumps rise on my flesh until longer digits enclosed around my throat.

I knew he could see the excitement- the  _fear_ \- that shot through my eyes as his grip tightened.

The bastard had even leant back to savor it with the audacity to keep a straight face as he pushed his way inside of me. 

In the second of calm as our breath mingled with the first taste of oneness, I felt our hearts pounding in unison. We fell apart together as he started to move- me a little faster, considering how tightly he was gripping my throat. 

Even with my strange mix of fear and arousal- perhaps due to the oxygen slowly thinning in my blood- I knew how my lover felt by the look in his eyes.

My Michael- my calm, unmovable Michael- was  _jealous_. 

After all, a survivor had _**killed**_ me!

It was one of two things he couldn't _stand-_ Someone in his territory, and someone touching what was _his_. 

I didn't even hesitate to pull him closer, desperately attempting to gasp and cry out as his teeth broke my skin.

Michael was _challenging_ me- reminding me that _HE_  could still hurt me... but _only if he wanted to._

I knew that I was giving him exactly what he wanted in return- a truly carnal fear of death and the satisfaction of someone clawing into him in mindless pleasure.

This is how he spoke to me.

It wasn't words or phrases, but it was the grip bruising my throat- tight enough to truly hurt, but weak enough for me to still pull enough air to stay awake into my lungs.

It was the way he lifted my hips  _just right_ , making a few of my cries turn a little more desperate than what this attack to my person should have prompted. 

It was the way he mixed those soft butterfly kisses with the pain of tearing flesh, pushing me past my own completion multiple times.

When we finally settled, I knew he had his questions. He had worked through his worry- his need to feel me here, alive and writhing beneath him- and now wanted an answer to what drifted through his mind. 

I chuckled, taking one of his hands in my own. 

I always take a moment to marvel at his hands whenever I get the pleasure to touch them. They were so much larger than mine! So much more  _deadly_ , yet learning to give pleasure simply to draw a turn of my lips!

I put his palm to my chest.

It took him a moment to get past the feeling of my heart racing under his fingertips, but eventually, he huffed the most silent of all chuckles. 

 

He laid beside me then, running one hand through my hair as the other pulled a blanket around our bodies.

I got a good nap in before a banging on the door roused me.

Evan wasn't amused that he was forced to collect us, but I knew he was smiling under that mask when he saw me pull Michael back to the bed for a prolonged kiss. I just laughed as Evan rolled his eyes dramatically and told us to 'get our asses down there.' 

I walked beside Michael in the fog, grinning and fiddling with the sleeves on my blue shirt- a  _certain someone_ had been hiding it again.  

I laughed at the faces around me as the fire came into view. I was preening like an unapologetic peacock and I knew it. 

 

I tried to reign that grin in as I sat on the log across from Meg, trying not to laugh as I felt Michael's eyes on my back. 

Meg truly had to put effort into tearing her eyes off the ground in order to meet my own.

I took a deep breath and braced my elbows against my knees. 

"I guess we have to talk, huh?"


End file.
